Crossroads
by Shadpup
Summary: A close call rattles the BAU and sends one team member on a journey no one ever saw coming. The fallout leaves scars that must be dealt with before the team can feel whole again.
1. Chapter 1

_I know, I know (please don't keel over in shock) I have never posted two separate stories within weeks of each other. Normally I'm a one story at a time writer, but I decided to be different this year. That may be good or it may be bad. Fingers crossed it is closer to good._

 _This is a reworking of the story I took down 'A Journey of a Lifetime'. I didn't scrap the entire thing so there are scenes that will feel familiar but have been tweaked to the fit the new one and many brand new scenes. It has already taken on a life of its own and I've gone places I hadn't expected to go. This one is now a stand alone and not connected to any of my other stories. I hope you will find it entertaining. Now go read and enjoy._

* * *

It wasn't the outcome they had been looking for…not by a long shot.

They had identified their UnSub and when they went to arrest him, he barricaded himself in his home with his three young children. SWAT managed to get him on the phone, but he refused to negotiate with Dave. He would only do it with the dark haired female agent he had seen on the television. It had to be face to face, not over the phone because he thought it was too impersonal that way. If she weren't there, unarmed, in five minutes, he would shoot one of his kids.

Derek didn't like the idea of sending Emily in alone and unarmed and was very vocal about it. As Emily handed over her weapon to Hotch, she countered that she knew what she was doing and that she had no intention of letting him kill any of his children. Armed with only her quick mind, Kevlar vest and open mic, Emily entered the house to talk him down.

From the command post set up in the house across the street, the team stood huddled in a circle listening as the UnSub demanded to see what she might have hidden under the vest.

"No, no! Don't do it, Prentiss," Derek said and then groaned when they heard the sound of Velcro ripping.

Apparently that satisfied him and they all breathed a sigh of relief as they heard her strapping the vest back on. It turned out to be short lived. Suddenly a single shot rang out. There was a grunt of pain followed by the heavy thud of a body hitting the floor. Imagining the worse the team prepared to rush the room when Emily's pain tinged voice came over the line.

" _It's okay. It's just a flesh wound."_

Though she made it sound like she was reassuring the UnSub, Emily was actually talking to them. Just like at the Separatarian ranch, she was telling them not to come in. Reluctantly they holstered their weapons and went back to listening, occasionally giving her tips through her earpiece.

The longer the negotiation went on, the tenser Derek became. There was something seriously wrong with the whole situation. He couldn't put his finger on what exactly it was, but his gut was screaming at him that it was going to get worse.

"Hotch, we need to go in now," he said urgently.

The Unit Chief frowned. "Prentiss seems to be holding her own. The UnSub sounds like he is on the verge of surrendering. If we rush in now, he could harm his children or her."

"He's already shot her, man. He's too calm. Way too calm. It's like he has already made up his mind." Realization set in. "He's going to kill them all."

Ignoring Hotch's order to stand down, Derek tore out of the house and across the street intent on saving his partner's life. He never should have let Emily go in by herself. It was too dangerous for one thing and the guy was a nutcase intent on taking out as many people before taking his own life or committing suicide by cop. At this point Derek was quite happy to help him along with the second option since the guy had already shot Emily.

Reaching the front door, he didn't bother to check if the door was unlocked. Derek reared back and kicked out with his foot as hard as he could. The door shuddered from the blow, but remained in place. Growling in frustration, he lashed out a second and third time. So focused on busting down the door, he was unaware of the commotion his actions were causing on the other side.

But the rest of the team definitely did. Through their comms they could hear Derek battering at the door, the UnSub screaming threats, his kids crying and Emily attempting to be heard over the din and calm everyone down. By the time they caught up with Derek, he had succeeded in busting through the door and was just disappearing down the dark stairwell. There was more shouting and then suddenly the air was filled with the sound of gunfire.

Fearing for the safety of all those involved, the team rushed down the stairs and burst into a situation that seemed unreal. Emily, white as a ghost, sat on the floor with her belt acting as a tourniquet on her left leg, bloody hands applying pressure to the gunshot wound. Derek, gun still held ready, kneeling next to the prone form of the UnSub checking for a pulse and a few feet beyond laid the man's children, so still and so silent. The team jumped into action with Dave and Hotch going to check on the children while Reid and JJ made a beeline to Emily.

"We need a medic!" Reid shouted into his mic as JJ dropped down next to Emily and put her hands over the brunette's bloody ones.

"Em, you're going to be fine. The medics are on their way."

Emily didn't appear to be aware of their presence, all her focus on the three little bodies across the room. "He shot them," she said in a stunned voice. "He just shot them."

Reid and JJ exchanged worried looks. "She's going into shock," he declared, taking off his FBI windbreaker and draping it over Emily's shoulders. "We need to keep her warm. She's lost a lot of blood. The bullet might have nicked the femoral artery."

"That's not good."

"No it isn't. Lets get her on her back and elevate her legs above her heart. It will decrease the blood flow to her thigh, slowing the bleeding and assist with clotting."

"Okay. Em, we need you to lie down. It will slow the bleeding."

Emily continued to stare at the bodies. "They're so young. One is still a baby."

"Emily? Can you hear me?" When she didn't get a response, JJ reached up and gently turned her friend's head, leaving traces of blood on her chin. "Em, it's very important that you listen to me. You have to lie down or you might bleed to death."

Emily blinked; her dark brown eyes glistening with unshed tears when she recognized her friend. "JJ, why did he have to shoot them? They were only children and so innocent."

"I honestly don't know. Please lie down."

Derek materialized next to JJ. "How's she doing?"

Before the blond could answer, Emily's eyes turned cold as she spat out, "It's your fault those kids are dead."

"Wha…what?" he stammered, not expecting the anger.

"If it wasn't for your battering down the door, they would still be alive."

"Pren…"

"I had it under control."

"Emily, you need to stay calm," Reid begged. "Getting angry is only going to raise your heart rate and make the bleeding worse."

"But no," she ranted. "You had to be the hero and charge in to save the day."

"Em," Reid and JJ said at the same time. She was now sweating and though they didn't think it was possible, she looked even paler.

Derek tried to defend himself. "That was his plan from the beginning. I only…"

"Get the fuck away from me!" she hissed and weakly shoved him, leaving bloody handprints on his vest.

The effort cost her dearly. The shove sucked up the rest of her energy and her body responded in the only way it could. Emily's eyes rolled into her head and passed out. Reid was there to catch her and gently eased her to the floor. He quickly checked her vitals. Her breathing was shallow, pulse rapid and weak and she was clammy to the touch.

"Where's the medics?" he demanded anxiously.

"Right here," a voice next to his shoulder said. The two medics moved into his line of sight. "Now if everyone could step back so we can get to work."

"She has a gsw to the left thigh. There doesn't seem to be an exit wound and judging by the amount of blood, the bullet may be embedded in or nicked the femoral artery," Reid pointed out before standing up and joining the others.

Fearing what Reid said could be true, the medics worked quickly, but carefully. Within minutes they had Emily on oxygen, an IV inserted in her arm and a pressure bandage on the wound. Then with Derek and Reid's help, they eased her on to a backboard to make it easier to transfer her to the stretcher and hopefully prevent any unnecessary jostling that could result in heavier bleeding and possible death.

"I'm going to ride with her," Derek announced, moving to follow the medics and their charge up the stairs and out to the ambulance.

Hotch, along with the others, had witnessed Emily's reaction to Derek's presence and didn't think it would be a good idea for him to ride along in the ambulance. Emily's health was more important. She needed to remain calm and that wouldn't happen if she were to wake up on the ride to the hospital and find Derek sitting there. It would be best to keep them separated until she had some time to recover and cool off.

"Reid and JJ can go with her." He nodded at the two and they headed off.

"But…" Derek protested.

"I said no," and without another word Hotch went to join Dave and the head of SWAT, heads bent close together as they talked amongst themselves.

Derek huffed in frustration. He wanted to go with his partner and be there when she woke up. He was genuinely puzzled to why Emily was mad at him. He saved her life. Left to stew in his own juices, he glumly watched the coroner begin his grisly job. Derek figured he would apologize when Hotch returned, but only got out "I'm sorry," before he was cut off.

Hotch stood imposingly tall in front of him, arms crossed, face etch in stone making it unreadable. "What happened?" he demanded.

Derek filled him in as best as he could. It had happened so fast. Just as he was nearing the bottom of the stairs, he heard three shots ring out and fearing the worst, he put on a burst of speed. Upon entering the cellar, he saw the UnSub swing his gun in Emily's direction. He didn't think, he just reacted and fired off four rounds: three to the chest and one to the head. The UnSub was dead before he hit the floor.

When Derek was done, Hotch stared at the drying pool of blood where Emily had been. He didn't doubt that the shooting was justifiable. Derek perceived that Emily was in imminent danger and acted accordingly. But, at the same time, there was no way to tell if it would've gone down the same path if Derek hadn't stormed in and spooked the UnSub. What he had done may not have been the right call to make nor did he have the right to make that decision in the first place.

"You shouldn't have gone in there."

"What you mean is that I shouldn't' have gone against your orders," he hissed, raised voice, clearly angered.

"No, Morgan, you shouldn't have done that. We had to wait for Prentiss to let us know it was time to go in. She had a handle on it."

"She was shot!" he yelled.

"Right, and when she's better, I'll have a talk with her about knowing when to make the call, but that's not the matter at hand here. You jeopardized the case and our agent."

"I did what I had to do."

Hotch stepped closer, eyes steely and voice low. "You did it because you wanted to. You acted in emotion because Prentiss was hurt. But that wasn't the right call."

Derek remained silent, jaw clenched in anger and frustration, but mainly with worry. All this crap could wait until later. Right now he should be at the hospital checking on his partner.

"Fine. Whatever you say. Can I go now? I want to be there when she wakes up."

"No. You're suspended for three days effective the moment the jet lands in DC."

"What?"

"You heard me, Morgan."

"This is bogus, Hotch," he declared in exasperation.

"For this team to function efficiently, everyone must trust each other and trust in my decisions. You still don't," Hotch pointed out, thinking back to New York when he had commandeered the ambulance with the bomb on it.

"I trust you and Prentiss."

Hotch shook his head. "If you truly did, you wouldn't have ignored a direct order. Three-day suspension and if you continue to argue I can easily make it a week. Understood?"

"Understood."

"Good. Now lets go and check on Emily."

* * *

The team was impatiently waiting for news on Emily. It already felt like they were waiting a lifetime, and it was amazing how many ways they could think up for one little bullet to the leg to do damage. The longer the wait was, the more they came up with.

"What can possibly be taking so long? What's the problem?" Derek huffed.

Everyone turned to Reid like he had all the answers, and, though it would have been easy for him to spout out a fact or two about complications and possibilities; he bit his tongue. It wasn't the right time. Derek was already frustrated and that wouldn't help, so he said nothing and just looked away.

"I'm going to see if there is any update," Hotch offered, standing and walking away from the group without waiting for them to respond.

The rest were left to speculate, but Hotch had no luck either. When he came back, they could read it on his face.

"Nothing?" JJ asked.

"No. They said that someone would be around to speak with us as soon as they can and to just be patient. Records show that she's still in surgery."

"I'm going to go update Garcia," Derek said, excusing himself to go calm down. He was still amped up and just needed a moment alone while everyone else ruminated some more.

"I guess it's good, right? That she's still in surgery…" JJ said. "Means that she's still fighting." Though, she didn't think it was supposed to take this long. No one expected that. And Reid didn't have the heart to tell her that it probably wasn't as positive a sign as they wanted it to be.

There was anxiety in the air as they continued to wait. The occasional frustrated groan sounded along with a sigh or two. They just wanted answers. Why wasn't anyone telling them anything?

"Agent Hotchner?" a voice broke their reverie.

"That's me," Hotch said, standing at attention.

"I have you down as Emily Prentiss' medical proxy."

"Yes."

"Why don't we talk privately?"

Hotch could feel the tension rise from the group behind him and made sure he spoke clearly, "You can speak freely. We're all family."

The doctor nodded and motioned for them all to take a seat where he joined them. "Emily was shot from the outer thigh with no exit wound. Thankfully, the projection of the bullet allowed for it to miss bone, but the type of round that was used splintered upon impact and made a mess of her muscle and nerves."

"What does that mean?" JJ asked.

"Will she be okay?" Derek followed up.

"She lost a lot of blood," the doctor explained. "A bullet fragment nicked the femoral artery during surgery. We had blood on hand and gave her several transfusions. We managed to stabilize her and continue to remove the fragments."

"How is she, though?" Dave asked.

"As I said, we stabilized her. Right now, she's resting comfortably in post-op. A nurse will be taking her to radiology to get a few scans and then she will be moved to a room shortly thereafter."

"I thought she was okay," Hotch stated. "Why does she need scans?"

"The scans are just to make sure all the fragments are out. We had to act quickly because of the blood loss so, we need assurance that all the pieces are out and none are embedded in her thigh. Unfortunately, Emily had a lot of muscle and nerve damage because of the scattered fragments. Now, it's possible that it will all heal just fine."

"But?" There was always a but, wasn't there?

"But we can't know the extent of the damage just yet. There was a lot of shrapnel lodged all over, some deeper into the tissue than others. We'll watch her for any signs of infection and do tissue conductivity as well as any other necessary tests, and we'll go with the best treatment plan from there."

"She'll be okay, though?" JJ asked the question again, Reid hanging on for the answer as he put aside the stats in his head.

"As of now, yes. I think with a little physical therapy, she'll be good as new, but we'll have to see how the next few days play out and determine the damage to the muscle before there are any definitive answers."

"Okay," Derek said. That would have to do. "When can we see her?"

"Scans should take about an hour or so. A nurse will come out and tell you once we have her settled in a room."

Dave held out his hand to shake with the doctor. "Thank you."

The doctor nodded and walked away, leaving the group to take a collective sigh of relief. Emily was okay. So far, so good. Unfortunately, things didn't stay that way. Soon after making a call to Garcia to fill her in once more as promised, things went south for Emily.

A nurse brought them back to her room, making it clear that Emily needed her rest and that, even if she were to wake up, she'd be groggy and needed to relax as much as possible, so not to disturb her. Of course, they agreed, only wanting what was best for their friend. When they walked in, Emily looked pale and small in the big sterile room, and yet, there were no other signs of her injury. Buried under the covers, they couldn't see her bandaged leg, only the bump from where they had it propped up on a pillow.

"She looks…"

"Good," Derek finished for Reid.

 _"Well, that's a lie,"_ Garcia said as she peered at Emily through the screen. She insisted that she be there in more than spirit as she waited at the airport to catch a flight to them. _"She's white as a tall glass of milk in desperate need of some cookies to crumble in it."  
_  
"Whatever you say, Mama." At least she could bring some levity to the situation.

They took seats where they could find some and talked quietly among themselves. They didn't want to disturb Emily, but they did wish she was awake and able to talk with them, but alas, more waiting. The waiting was something they would have preferred to the scenario they got.

Out of nowhere, Emily started whining. Her eyes still closed, no response to her name, she just groaned, presumably, in pain.

"Emily?" Reid called to her.

"Emily, can you hear us?" JJ joined him.

 _"What's going on?"_ Garcia asked.

They all approached Emily, hoping this was just her waking up and in need of a painkiller or two, but no such luck. She didn't respond to any of their questions and, before they could go get a nurse or press the call button, the monitor started beeping. Reid, the only one positive what the monitors were saying, told them that she was spiking a fever and, as she was waking up from the anesthesia, was experiencing all the pain and not reacting well. Her blood pressure was skyrocketing.

"Everyone out," a nurse cleared the room, a doctor coming in behind her and going straight to Emily.

They tried to ask questions, but the door was just slammed into their faces as a team looked over Emily.

"What the hell was that?!" Derek yelled, ignoring Garcia's pleas to tell her what was happening. He couldn't focus on her right now, telling her that he'd call her back soon. She would give him hell for that later, but then, his mind was focused solely on Emily.

Though they were only waiting ten or so minutes, the nurses going in and out and the lack of answers made it feel like an eternity. When they asked the nurses, they didn't tell them anything and, when they peeked in the door, nothing became any clearer.

Everyone's backs straightened and tensed when the doctor finally came out of the room. They were on him right away.

"Tell us what's happening."

The doctor sighed and began, "Emily's running a low-grade fever."

They were all immediately concerned. Fever after surgery generally meant infection, and that was never a good sign.

"Right now, it's nothing to be concerned about. It's a common post-op complication. I've ordered an antibiotic that should prevent it from getting worse, but we will monitor it closely as well as watch for any other signs of infection. Right now, the wound doesn't look infected, but, obviously, we can't see through the wound to what's inside and we don't want to do anymore surgery to explore that unless necessary."

"You say it's nothing to be concerned about, but you didn't see her in there," Derek started.

"She was crying and unconscious. She didn't respond and was clearly in pain."

"You were warned that she would be groggy. She was still under the effects of the anesthesia and that was why she couldn't respond. She hadn't yet received her dose of morphine for the pain and felt it all as she was coming to. That caused her body to react in panic and her blood pressure to spike."

"So she's okay now? Unlike last time?"

"She's alright and we will continue to monitor the situation."

It was another doctor half answer that wasn't an actual answer at all.

Frustrated and worried, Hotch asked, "Can we go sit with her again?"

"Yes, but I've administered a sedative and the medications will keep her asleep for a few hours at least. Her body needs time to recover and another episode like that can cause problems for her."

They could all tell that he was holding back, but they were worried enough without hearing it. Emily had a habit of scaring them. This was another one of those moments, and it left them with the looming feeling that more was to come, though, they certainly didn't wish for that.

Emily slept through the next few hours, medical personnel coming in every thirty or so minutes to check her IV and vitals making it hard for the rest of them to relax, but they managed. They each found an uncomfortable stool or chair to claim and attempt to let the adrenaline calm down. They were feeling the stress of the day and needed the rest, too. It seemed the moment they all got to that point, everything went haywire.

JJ woke to the sounds of mild whimpers, briefly forgetting where she was and calling out to Henry. Quickly, though, she remembered exactly where she was and why, and became concerned. "Emily?" she asked.

"JJ…" the brunette responded.

"What's wrong? Are you ok? Should I get a doctor?"

Wearily, she moved her unfocused eyes to try to meet JJ's. "It hurts."

There was a sheen of sweat above Emily's brow that made JJ intentionally speak louder as to wake the team, but not alert Emily. "What hurts?"

"Everything… Where… What… What happened?"

Hotch was now beside JJ. "She doesn't look good," he said, and motioned for Dave to go find a nurse. "Emily, you're in the hospital."

"Hurts," she moaned. "Hot… Cold."

Reid exchanged a worried look with Derek who put his hand on the younger man's shoulder. It quickly became clear that Emily was confused, not making any sense as she talked even when they tried to focus her. What was taking that doctor so long?

From there, everything happened in a hurried frenzy. Her cry became louder, nearing a scream as her weak hand tried to reach for her leg. All their eyes went to where they knew her wound was. Through the hospital sheets, they could see a small patch of red growing richer and bigger by the second.

"Go," Hotch said. "Go make sure the doctor's coming now." He turned to Emily. "You're okay. Everything will be okay." Though, he didn't know if he was saying that more for his own comfort or hers.


	2. Chapter 2

Infection, the doctor told them. That was the biggest problem. Emily didn't respond well to the medicine, the fever persisted, worsened, and possibly necrotic tissue was causing the bleed at the wound site and the beginning of sepsis. If they didn't take her into surgery to stop the bleeding right away, not only could the infection spread to the point where she could lose the leg, but she could also die. If that thought was bad, hearing it come from the doctor's mouth was worse.

"Damn it," Derek in frustration threw an empty cup against the seat. Why did Emily always end up in some kind of crisis? The laundry list of injuries and dramatic incidents surrounding her seemed enormous.

"Sit down, Derek. Emily will be okay," JJ tried to comfort.

"You don't know that. Neither does the doctor apparently. He told us she was fine two times now and both times he was wrong."

"And she was, at the time," Reid said. "Unfortunately, Emily was hit with post-op complications and didn't respond to normal treatment, but she didn't get to the point of sepsis just yet. So, it's better they're treating her now."

Dave put his hand on Reid's forearm and shook his head as a way to tell him that wasn't helping. "Did you talk to Penelope?" Dave asked Derek.

"After she yelled at me for twenty minutes, she said that she's getting on a plane."

"Good," JJ said. She knew the analyst would have a fit if she didn't get to see Emily in person. She worried, however, about how Penelope was handling everything trying to travel all alone. But that was a problem to face when it came about. Right now, all their attention was on Emily and waiting… again.

"Did they say how long the surgery would be?" Hotch asked.

"Have they told us anything worth hearing yet?" Derek sniped.

"Depending on what they find, it could be an hour to several," Reid told them.

"Awesome," JJ sighed, leaning into the hard plastic chair.

All they seemed to do that day was wait and worry, wait some more, and worry even more than that. It was exhausting, and they were all feeling it. Reid, however, looked the most concerned of all of them.

"Doing okay?" Dave asked him as they walked off to get some more coffee.

"Sure, yeah. I'm fine."

"Talk to me, Spencer. What's on your mind?"

"I'm just worried."

"We all are."

"I know all the things that could go wrong. This… this could be very bad."

"I know."

He nodded. They knew, but he had the facts and figures engrained in his memory, forcing him to attach Emily to those possibilities. It was hard enough that she was hurt, worse that he could see the worst case scenarios play out in vivid detail.

"She'll be okay."

"We hope," Reid said.

"Exactly. I know you're a man of science, but we have to have faith, too. Not everything is about facts. So, let's not think of what could happen and just stick with what is. We'll get coffee for everyone and head back to the team to wait together."

"Okay."

It was a quick coffee run, and when they got back to the team, everyone was exactly where they left them. The two gave each person their coffee before planting themselves in the seats too. Torture… waiting was akin to torture.

"I think I see Emily's doctor."

Everyone stood to greet the man, hoping for the best news. "Emily's being transferred to the post-op ICU," he began. "There was a lot of necrotic tissue, dead tissue, in her thigh that we had to excise, including some muscle."

That did not sound good at all…

"There was a tiny fragment that attached itself deep into the muscle beyond what we could see. That caused the infection to set in quickly and continue to damage the tissue. The bleed was a side effect of that. She received another transfusion and complete debridement of the incision site. She'll be on very high grade antibiotics, but I'm confident that there will be no further complications."

That was the best news they heard all day. A smile and wave of relief flooded all of them, but that wasn't the end of it.

"But the muscle and nerve damage… it's worse now," Reid pointed out. "She'll be able to walk right?"

Everyone seemed to hold his or her breath for that answer. No one else even considered that a possibility.

"All signs point to yes, but we'll have to wait until she's mobile enough to get her up on her feet and into physical therapy to determine whether there will be any disabilities."

"Disabilities?" Derek croaked.

"It's hard to say how her body will react. It's likely that she will experience some pain for a while, if not permanently, and with the muscle and nerve loss already, plus the natural atrophy that will occur during recovery… she may not ever have the same mobility that she had before this…"

They let that sink in for a second.

"But… but there's a chance that she'll have none of those issues… right?"

"There's always a possibility, but…"

"But you wouldn't go betting any Vegas bookie on those odds," Dave finished.

"I would not," he agreed. "She's getting settled into the new room. If you follow Nurse Ramos, she'll take you to the floor, and if you have any questions, feel free to ask them." He pointed out the nurse to them.

The doctor left them with a somber taste in their mouth. Emily Prentiss was facing an uphill battle, and, with her, it would be even more of a mental battle than it was physical. The only thing they knew at that point was that, no matter what the outcome, they were her family and they were sticking by her side.

* * *

Room had a different meaning in the post-op ICU. It was more the size of a cubicle with a glass partition acting as wall and door allowing the patient to be easily seen from the circular nursing station located in the center of the department. Emily's room had the curtain drawn hiding her from the view. Silently they entered one by one, each with a heavy heart. They weren't sure what to expect. The news wasn't so much grim as it was painful. Their friend was lying in that bed unaware of what might lie ahead and the thought of telling her scared them.

When they laid eyes on her again, she looked a little better, still weak and pale, but some color was back and she looked more peaceful. Off to one side was a monitor keeping track of her heart rate, pulse and temperature. It made sense since Emily had a scare and they wanted to monitor her condition closely as a precaution, but it was still scary to see. It took a little maneuvering, but they were able to cram themselves into the small space. This was the first time they hoped she slept a little longer so that they could grapple with that if's before she came to.

* * *

It was a distant, annoying sound that aroused Emily from her drug induced slumber. She let out a frustrated moan and felt someone take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

"It's time for you to wake up, Emily," a familiar voice said.

Emily's eyes fluttered open and she had to blink several times to bring the face into focus. "J…JJ?" she croaked.

JJ smiled. "Hey," she said in greeting.

She scrunched up her face as if she was in pain. "Ma…make it stop," she pleaded.

JJ shared worried looks with the rest of the team, who moved in closer when Emily started to stir as she tightened her grip on her friend's hand. "Stop what?" she asked in concern.

She looked at her with eyes dulled by pain medication. "The damn bee…beeping."

Another exchange of worried looks. "Maybe she means the heart monitor," Reid suggested and since he was the closest, reached over and turned the volume.

JJ nodded her thanks and gave Emily a warm smile. "Better?"

"Bet…better," she said with a slow nod, earning relieved smiles from the team. Her eyelids began to droop. "Tired."

"Then close your eyes and get some sleep. We'll be here when you wake. Okay?"

"Kay," she slurred and drifted off into dreamland.

As soon as they were sure Emily was out again, everyone sat back in their uncomfortable chairs and breathed a sigh of relief. Emily still had her wits about her. Hearing her complain was music to their ears. At the very least, it was a sign that she was just resting and not in the same unstable of confusion as before thankfully.

They watched her sleep for a while before Derek pulled out his phone. "Baby Girl," he said when the technical analyst came on the line. "I wanted to let you know that Emily briefly woke up."

He let out a soft chuckle when he heard Penelope's comment. "She was only awake long enough to complain that the heart monitor was too loud. She's still fighting off the effects of the anesthesia." He then filled her in on what the doctor told them. Like the rest of them, she was both relieved and worried about Emily's prognosis.

Derek paused and then nodded. "I'll keep you up to date. See you soon," he said and hung up. He sighed and settled back in the chair to wait for Emily to wake again. Hopefully it will for a longer period of time.

* * *

Emily sensed movement next to her and cracked her eyes open. "JJ?" she rasped.

The nurse looked up from changing the bandage on Emily's thigh and smiled. "Sorry. I believe she and a few of your friends went down to the cafeteria to get something to eat, but one of the gentlemen has remained. He's waiting in the hall," she added when she saw the panic look on Emily's face. "I'll get him for you in moment. But can I ask you a few questions first?"

Emily relaxed and nodded. "Good. Can you tell me your name?" the nurse asked.

"Emily Prentiss."

"And do you know where you are?"

Emily took a look around. She noted the pale blue walls, the medical equipment and that she wasn't in her own bed. "A hospital," she said with a resigned groan.

"Yes. You're at Mercy General."

"How?" Emily asked in confusion.

The nurse smiled again. "I'll let your friend fill you in."

Emily rolled her head to look at the door. "Reid?" she called out in a hoarse whisper, choosing a name at random.

The nurse finished her bandaging, folded the covers back over the injured limb and then rested a hand on her shoulder. "You just rest will I go fetch him. I'm sure he hasn't wandered far."

She watched the nurse walk out of the room then closed her eyes. She reopened them when she felt someone pat her on the knee. "Dave?"

"You called?" He asked with a smile as he settled into the chair and scooted it closer to her hospital bed.

Emily opened her mouth but found her throat too parched to speak. She ended up coughing which made her chest hurt. Dave hastily filled the cup with water and held the straw to her lips.

"Easy there, Kiddo. I don't want you to get sick," he cautioned as she gulped in down. She nodded and slowed down.

She took one more sip and sank back against the pillows, exhausted from the simple act of taking a drink. She wet her dry lips with her tongue. "Wha…what happened?"

He set the cup back on the table. "You were shot by the UnSub," he said and watched the confusion flicker across her face.

"I was shot? How bad?"

Dave took a moment to school his thoughts. When the doctor spoke to them earlier, it was very detailed and full of medical terms and would probably confuse Emily at this point in time. One look in her eyes he could tell she was still under the influence of the drugs they pumped into her system. So he was going to try to keep it as simple as possible and leave the doctor to explain in more detail when he checks in on her.

"You were shot in the left thigh. The bullet went through your muscle and nerve causing a big mess in there. The surgeon thought they had gotten all the fragments, but one remained hidden. It caused an infection, leaving more damage."

Emily's IV laden hand reached down in an attempt to touch the injured limb. "I…I can't feel it." Panic rose in her voice. "Please tell me they didn't take my leg. I don't want to lose my leg." All sorts of gruesome images flashed through her mind as her groping fingers felt the bandage through the covers. The bandage must be protecting the wound or covering the stump where they cut her leg off.

"No they didn't. See?" Dave captured her flaying hand and used his free one to flip back the covers to expose two feet clad in non-skid blue socks. "The numbness is probably the result of the pain medication." He hoped. "The second surgery to clean out the infection went well." A twinkle came to his eyes. "If you want, I can tickle them."

"That's not necessary," she said, giving him a wan smile as relief flooded through her. She was intact. The doctors in their desperation hadn't resorted to cutting off her leg to stop the infection from spreading. Also she didn't want him to know she had ticklish feet.

Emily let her eyes drift to the ceiling, repeating the word shot over and over in her head. The multiple drugs coursing through her veins made it hard to think but eventually remembering what she had been up to. For the past four days they were here in Yazoo City, interesting name for a place, Mississippi pursuing their UnSub. He was a visionary, who had a psychotic break that lead to his killing spree because he felt god compelled him to. It culminated in a stand off at his home. She even vaguely recalled actually going inside the building unarmed.

She looked at him with uncertainty. "I went to negotiate with him?"

"Yes. He refused to talk to me. He was only willing to do so with you," he explained.

The confusion returned to her eyes. ""I was shot in the cellar?" she echoed.

Dave nodded. A distant look came over her face as she searched her memory. He watched with dread as she slowly and painfully connected the dots. She blinked in shock as the memories came flooding back. He reached over to take her hand in his.

She turned to him and he saw the sorrow in her brown eyes. "He had his children with him," she whispered.

He wrapped both hands around hers. "I'm so sorry, Emily," he said sadly.

Her eyes widened and she jerked her hand free. "He…he killed them. Killed them for no reason," she said, shaking her head in denial.

"I'm afraid so," he said softly.

She continued to shake her head as tears welled in her eyes and trickled down her checks. "No. No. No," she repeated while all the monitors in the room went wild when her vitals soared.

Dave was at a loss about what to do. He watched helplessly as grief at the loss of those innocent children overwhelmed her. She wrapped her arms protectively around her body as the tears began to flow more freely. He had never seen her cry like this. He couldn't take it anymore; his pseudo-daughter was hurting. He sat on the edge of the bed and mindful of her injured leg, gently pulled her into a hug.

At first Emily tensed at his touch then she wrapped her arms around him, holding on for dear life. She melted into his embrace and sobbed into his shoulder. Dave could hear her repeating 'those poor kids' and over.

He held her tight while he said softly, "It's okay. You did all you could to save them." Dave wasn't sure if she had heard what he had said so he kept repeating it while he rubbed her back with one hand.

When a nurse came in to check on the monitors, Dave shot her a look that said everything was fine and she quietly backed out of the room. Eventually the tears stopped and he felt her sag in his arms as the combination of the pain meds and exhaustion caught up with her. As gently as he could, he eased Emily back down and tucked the blankets around her sleeping form. With one more glance at her, Dave went to join the rest of the team who had returned from the cafeteria. They had witnessed the final few minutes of the conversation, but when Emily had started to cry, they had moved away from the door to give her some privacy.

"She's asleep," Dave said.

"Emily remembered everything?" Hotch asked, concern for his injured agent wrinkling his brow.

"Not quite," Dave said and looked at Derek. "I don't believe she remembers your part in their deaths."

Penelope was sitting at her bedside when Emily woke up several hours later. When she heard her stirring, she set aside the ebook she had sort of been reading. She was so worried about her that she wasn't paying attention to the words on the pages. It was simply something to occupy her hands.

She scooted to the edge of her chair and wrapped her hand around Emily's. "Hey," Penelope said softly, giving it a squeeze.

"Hey," Emily rasped and unconsciously licked her lips.

"Want some water?" she quickly offered.

Emily nodded carefully; afraid if she moved to quickly her head would fall off. Penelope poured a fresh glass and held it for her while she took slow sips. She saw that Emily's eyes were still dull looking, not so much by the pain medication, but by sadness and guilt.

"Better?" she asked when she looked like she was done.

She nodded again and sank back against the pillows. The fingers of her right hand began plucking at the edge of the blanket covering her.

"What are you doing here, PG?"

"You didn't get yourself shot and not expect me to show up at your bedside, did you?"

"Guess not," Emily responded, a smile just breaking the surface.

"How are you feeling, Hon?"

Mentally or physically? "I'm..."

"You know what, don't answer that. It was a stupid question anyway. You're probably feeling like dirt. Am I right?"

"Something like that."

"Well, what can I do to help? Anything? I can see if the doctor can get you more of the good drugs? And if he says no, I can steal them for ya," she whispered with a wink.

When Emily didn't laugh or respond much at all, her fingers still playing with the blanket's edge, practically fraying the fabric, Penelope scooted as close to the bed as she could. After a moment of silence, she said, "Tell me what that thought train is spreading in your pretty little head."

It took a beat for Emily to respond. Her eyes remaining distant and longing, she started. "I... It really happened didn't it...? The kids, they're dead... I couldn't... I tried..." Finally looking to Penelope, she begged, "Tell me it was all just some horrible, horrible nightmare."

Penelope sighed and shook her head. "I wish I could, Emily. I really do but I can't."

She blinked and let her eyes drift to the ceiling. Her probing fingers found a loose thread on the blanket and started worrying it. And there they remained in silence. Emily lost in her head and Penelope watching her pulling at the thread.

At that particular moment, Derek came breezing into her hospital room with two cups of coffee. He grinned broadly when she saw that she was awake. "Hey there, Trouble. It's great to see those gorgeous brown eyes of yours," he exclaimed as he handed one of the cups to Penelope.

Emily's eyes flickered over to him as the corner of her mouth curled into a smile. He always had a way to make her smile when she didn't feel like it. A quip was on the tip of her tongue when she was blindsided by a flashback. She clutched at the blanket and squeezed her eyes shut as the memories from the rest of that day returned. The two friends at her bedside tensed with worry.

"Emily, are you in pain?" Derek asked, setting his coffee down on the rolling table. "Do you want me to get the nurse?"

She sucked in a breath and slowly opened her eyes. Both saw that they weren't filled with pain but with anger, white-hot rage. Neither one had ever seen her this angry before.

Emily leveled those eyes on Derek. "Get out!"

"What?" Derek stared at his friend in disbelief. They had heated arguments over the years but never once had she ever kicked him out.

"I said get out! I don't want to see or talk to you!"

In desperation, he tried to make light of it, hoping it would defuse some of her anger towards him. "Come on, Prentiss," he said with a smile and a half shrug. "You don't mean that."

It backfired horribly. Emily abruptly sat up, grabbed her drinking glass and hurtled it at his head.

"Get out or I'll have you removed!" she shouted.

Derek ducked and the plastic glass struck the wall behind him, splattering water everywhere. His eyes went wide in shock.

Penelope jumped to his feet. "You better leave, Derek," she advised.

Derek nodded and moved to the door. As he passed the foot of the bed, he turned sad eyes to his best friend. "I'm so sorry, Emily."

Emily had a death grip on the bed railing to stay upright. "Out," she said through clenched teeth.

It had been a boneheaded move and now she was paying for it as pain was now coursing through her body. Penelope hurried to her side and help to ease her back down against the pillows and blatantly reached over and depressed the button for the patient controlled pain medication infusion pump that was clipped to the front of Emily's hospital gown. It wouldn't be long before she felt the effects of the drug.

Penelope stood next to the bed, taking a hold on her hand. "Do you want to talk about what just happened?" she asked softly.

When she could breathe again, Emily shook her head. "No."

"Okay," she said with a nod. Penelope saw that Emily had retreated behind her protective walls and no amount of pushing was going to get her to open up. If anything, it would have her distancing herself from them further.

Emily locked her eyes on the ceiling and slipped her hand free of hers. "If you don't mind I would like to be alone."

"Sure," she agreed reluctantly. She gave Emily's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You get some rest and I'll see you in the morning. Night, Sweetie."

"I will. Night, Pen," she said softly.

She nodded. At the door she paused and looked back at her. Emily gave her a weak smile that didn't reach her eyes then turned her attention back to the ceiling. Penelope let out a resigned sigh then stepped out into the corridor where the agitated agent paced.

"She didn't mean what she said," Penelope said, going over to him and resting a hand on his shoulder. Through the material she could feel how tense he was.

"It sure sounded like she did," Derek said with hurt echoing in his voice.

"Give Emily some time, Derek," she advised. "She has had a lot to process in the last couple of hours. And the effects of the medication aren't helping."

Derek ran a frustrated hand over his head. "I know. I know. It's just that I've never seen her that angry before. If she hadn't been confined to bed, I think she would have attacked me."

"Neither have I," Penelope agreed. "Let her sleep it off. Why do we go to the hotel, get some sleep and come back tomorrow? Things will be better in the morning."

* * *

After Penelope had left, Emily let her eyes drift over to the window. Darkness had fallen and she could see a sliver of the moon hanging low in the sky. The reflection of the city lights made it impossible for her to see any of the constellations, not that she wanted to at this particular moment. Her focus was consumed by the rage surging through her mind. She always knew she had a temper, but she normally kept it tightly under wraps. But tonight it had broken out of its prison with such ferocity. It had startled her, which in turn made her feel guilty. Then she would remember why and her temper continued its rampage.

Derek had deserved it because he was partially responsible for how everything went down. His lack of trust in her ability to talk the UnSub down directly contributed to the man taking the lives of his children. And Emily didn't know if she could forgive his actions or if she even wanted to. Right now she was too angry with him to see past that.

But the blame was not all his, the majority of it fell squarely on her shoulders. He may have rushed into the room, but she was the one inside of it, failing to diffuse the situation. She got herself shot and set off the whole crazy train. If she had only done her job, none of it would have happened. Those kids would still be alive and she wouldn't be in the position she was in. But it had and there was nothing she could do except to accept all the blame and the guilt.

Emily yawned. The anger raging inside her was slowly extinguished by the heavy dose morphine now coursing through her veins. Her body started to relax and she felt her eyelids growing heavy. Emily didn't fight it and let her eyes close. Within a minute she fell into a drug induced slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

Derek was back at the hospital bright and early the next morning. On the way there he had stopped at a florist and picked up an arrangement of Emily's favorite flowers. He hadn't slept well last night, constantly worrying about his partner. The outburst of anger yesterday had been uncharacteristic of her. Hopefully Penelope was right and that the pain meds had brought it on. He also prayed that she had gotten a good night's sleep and would be open to hearing his side of the story. If she still wanted to be mad at him afterwards, he would be fine with that. At least he would know that she knew he had only acted in her best interest.

Upon entering the ICU, he learned Emily's condition had been upgraded to satisfactory and was transferred to a private room. Buoyed by the thought that she was definitely on the mend, Derek hurried back to the elevators. He got off on the fifth floor and headed for Emily's room. As he neared it, he noticed her door was closed. It swung open just as he was reaching for the handle. A male nurse stepped out and gave him a quick look over.

"Are you Agent Morgan?" he asked.

"Yes I am," Derek confirmed with a frown.

The nurse let out a long breath. "Agent Prentiss has informed us that she doesn't want you to visit her. I'm afraid I can't let you enter."

"Oh." He stared at the closed door with hurt eyes. _She actually banned me from her room._ He looked down at the flowers he now felt silly holding in his hands. He held them out to the nurse. "Could you give these to her?"

"Sure," he agreed. He took the arrangement and slipped back into Emily's room. Within a minute he returned, the flowers still in his hand. "She said she didn't want them," he apologized and handed them back.

Derek took them. "Thank you for trying," he said with a nod.

He turned and slowly walked back to the elevators. He couldn't believe that Emily didn't want to see him. It was so unlike her. He found a chair and dropped into it. That meant one thing; she was genuinely pissed with him. And she was going to remain that way until she let him back in and allowed him to apologize. Derek set the flowers on the floor and slapped his knees in determination. Even though Emily banned him from her room, it didn't mean he had to leave the hospital. Whether she liked it or not, he was going to stay put and support her from right here.

* * *

When Dave stepped off the elevator, he wasn't surprised to discover that Derek had gotten to the hospital first. What did surprise him was finding Derek sitting out in the corridor, flower arrangement all but forgotten by his feet, instead of in Emily's room.

"Is the doctor in with Emily?" he questioned, figuring that was why Derek was out here.

"No," Derek said with a shake of his head.

"Then why are you sitting here and not hanging out with her?" he asked with a frown.

The dark agent sighed. "She banned me from her room."

Dave's eyebrows shot up. "She did?"

Derek nodded and gestured at the arrangement. "And she refused to accept my flowers."

Dave stared down the corridor at Emily's room. He had honestly thought that after a good night's sleep, she would have calmed down and had let go of the animosity she felt toward her best friend. Apparently he was wrong. She needed someone to blame and Derek fit the bill. That didn't mean Dave thought he didn't deserve some of it, but the poor kid looked beaten already.

"Don't," Derek demanded when Dave tiredly tried to sit down beside the younger man.

"I'm not doing anything," Dave said, holding his hands up like he was surrendering as he rested his back against the wall.

Derek stood to be at eye level. "I can read it on you. You think she's right. But save your breath. I've already had the lecture from Hotch," the younger man huffed. A lecture and a fucking three-day suspension… he didn't need any more punishment, but he would take it if Emily would just talk with him.

"You kind of had that coming," Dave retorted with a smirk. "Hotch made an order and you pushed on like you didn't even hear it."

"I heard him."

"So then she was correct when she said that you had to be the hero and charge in to save the day?"

"No. I don't do that. Yeah, I'm the guy that likes to kick down doors and be there when we do good. But we're all like that or we wouldn't be doing this job. You're probably not kicking down any doors at your age, but the good parts…we're here for the good parts."

"We are, but that doesn't mean that you don't have a bit of a hero complex."

Derek just shook his head in disagreement and said, "He was going to kill Emily and his children."

"How did you know that? If he really wanted to kill Emily, he would have done it the second she stepped into the cellar. Instead, he shoots her in the leg probably thinking it would prevent her from attacking him. With her down, he felt he held the higher ground and was more willing to negotiate."

Derek shook his head vehemently. "I heard it in his voice. We were strapped for time. Emily was already hurt and things were escalating, not getting better."

"Maybe you heard what you wanted to hear, Morgan. You were ticked that Emily went in there unarmed."

"It was against protocol," he protested. "But it wasn't that. Shit. Clearly things weren't okay in there. Look where we are, Dave. We shouldn't have let her go in there. She shouldn't have been unarmed. It wasn't right and it was against regulation."

"And yet Hotch approved it. There have been times over the years that Hotch and I have gone into dangerous situations unarmed and not once did you charge in. You let us handle it even if you didn't like it. What made this situation different?"

"The son of a bitch shot her." He was getting tired of repeating it. "I had to protect her."

Dave's eyebrows arched up as he pushed off the wall. "Ah…I see. Emily is the damsel in distress and you're the knight in shining armor, galloping in to rescue her. You don't have any trust in her abilities." Dave wasn't saying it to be mean or harsh, but he needed Derek to understand his own choices, right or wrong, and their consequences.

There was that damn word again. Trust. First Hotch, and now Dave, were throwing it back in his face. He trusted her with his life. "Of course I trust her. Emily is my partner."

"Not completely. You have an overwhelming need to protect her even when it's not wanted. Emily would be the first to tell you that she doesn't need protecting. She's quite capable of standing on her own two feet."

Derek's mind jumped back years to when they were investigating her friend Matthew Benton's death and she accused him, point blank, of not having her back. He responded that he was only protecting her. That only made her angrier, telling him she didn't need protecting. Could he be doing it again? _No_ , he decided. _I did what I had to do.  
_  
"I did what I thought was right."

"But you didn't think about the other consequences of your actions. Three children died yesterday." Dave held up a hand to hold off any further protest. "And before you get your nose further out of joint, Emily was wrong in saying that it was your fault they died. The blame falls squarely on their father's shoulders. He's the one who pulled the trigger, not you, but your ill planned actions contributed to it."

Derek glared at the older man. "Maybe they did. But you can't know that any more than you know that Emily and those kids would have been fine if I didn't get in there when I did. We were in a shitty situation that got out of hand beyond what any of us anticipated. But would I change the fact that Emily came out of this alive? Hell no," he declared.

He paced in agitation, as Dave remained quiet in attempt to, hopefully, calm him a bit by not setting him off more.

"You know damn well that she would have bled out. She would have held off giving the signal until she was dead or dying. And then you wouldn't have anyone to blame but yourselves for not getting there sooner. At least I can say I tried. I tried to help my friend and I tried to get there in time. Thank god she survived and you all get to blame me." Derek threw up his hands in disgust. "Whatever man. I did what I did and I'll take my punishment because I know that I helped to keep her with us. Maybe you all should think about that."

With that Derek spun on his heels and stormed off in the direction of the elevators. Dave didn't follow him. Derek needed a moment to calm down and Dave was going to give it to him. He said all he wanted to say and if Derek didn't like it, maybe that was because he was realizing that there was some fault in his actions. The blame didn't fall on him, but Derek certainly didn't make things better. Dave had been on this job for a long time so he has seen the many different ways a person responds to criticism. Derek Morgan was a hothead, easy to anger. He would go outside to get some fresh air and calm down. Once he was composed, he would be back and resume his post outside of Emily's room. Hopefully by the time he returns, Dave would have gotten her to change her mind or at least open her eyes to some reason. Her shutting him out would only fuel Derek's anger. The two hard heads needed their friendship.

Spotting the arrangement of flowers Derek inadvertently abandoned on the floor, Dave picked them up and made his way to Emily's room. He paused outside the closed door then knocked sharply on it. When he didn't get a response after a minute, he cracked it open and poked his head in. He didn't want to barge in and disturb her if she was sleeping. A smile crossed his face when he saw that Emily was sitting up and gazing out the window.

"Hey, Kiddo," he said cheerfully. "Mind if I come in?"

Emily tore her eyes from the view outside to look over at him. "Not at all," she said, giving him a weak smile.

As he walked in, he noted several arrangements of flowers decorating the room. Though he did notice that the envelopes attached to them didn't seem to have been opened. Odds were they were all from Penelope. The woman had the tendency to buy out a floral shop whenever someone on the team was hurt.

"I see that the get well soon wishes are starting to roll in."

"Yeah," she said, letting her gaze return to the window.

Dave stopped next to the bed and set the flowers down on the rolling table. If Emily noticed the arrangement was the same one Derek tried to give her, she didn't show it. He gestured to one of the unopened envelopes. "Don't you want to know who they are from?"

"Not really," she said with a noncommittal shrug.

 _This is going well_ , he thought. He pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down. "So how are you feeling today?"

"Better. Not as drowsy as yesterday."

She did look better than yesterday. A lot of color has returned to her cheeks so she no longer looked like she was trying to do an impersonation of Casper the friendly ghost.

"The anesthesia has probably completely worn off."

"Probably," she agreed, still gazing out the window.

It was obvious that she wasn't in a talking mood, but she did tend to get that way when she got stuck in the hospital. It usually took a bit of cajoling to draw her out of her funk. But he sensed it was different this time. This time three children died before her eyes.

"Emily, its not your fault," he said softly. "Nor is it Derek's. The only one who should be blamed for the children's death is their father."

Her head whipped around and she locked eyes with him. In those dark brown orbs he saw guilt, anger and something he would never have associated with Emily Prentiss: defeat. Was this the case that had finally broken her?

"Yes, it is," she said in a pained voice.

Emily broke eye contact and wrapped her arms protectively around her body. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as if she was cold, once more staring out the window.

"I don't want to talk about them, about Morgan or anything to do with that day."

"Emily—" he tried.

"Dave, just drop it. Don't make me ask you to leave."

"I'm sorry. Consider it dropped," he conceded.

"Thank you," she whispered with a barely perceivable nod.

The two friends settled into an uncomfortable silence that blanketed the room until it was broken by the orderly delivering breakfast. He placed it on the table and rolled it into place over her bed.

"What is it?" Dave asked in curiosity.

The orderly consulted the slip of paper on the tray. "Ummm…scrambled eggs, two slices of bacon, a blueberry muffin, a banana and orange juice."

"It sounds good," Dave observed after the hospital employee had left. "Aren't you going to eat?"

Emily didn't even glance at the tray. "I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat," he insisted.

That got a flash of emotion from her. "I said I'm not hungry. The pain meds—"

He held up a hand to forestall her. "I know. I know. The pain meds throw off your appetite. I get it but you still need to eat."

"You're not my doctor so you can't force me to eat," she retorted.

"Look, Emily. I agreed to drop the subject of Morgan so now it's your turn." He took the cover off the plate then opened the small carton of orange juice and stuck a straw in it. "Humor me."

Emily glared at him for a moment before picking up the fork and spearing a piece of egg with it.

Dave refrained from saying good girl because he was afraid that she would throw her breakfast in his face in retaliation. Instead he simply nodded and said, "Thank you."

* * *

When he excited Emily's room after several hours, he found that Derek had resumed his post a short distance down the corridor. He looked a lot calmer and more in control than he was earlier. It seemed the fresh air did him a world of good. Dave would have stayed longer, but Dr. DeCandido, the surgeon who had operated twice on Emily's leg, had politely kicked him out so that he could do his examination and talk to his patient.

Derek took one look at his face and sighed in disappointment. "I take it you couldn't get her to change her mind?"

He shook his head slowly. "Emily wouldn't even let me bring it up."

"Bring what up?" Hotch asked, inserting himself in to the conversation. Both men jumped in surprise, they hadn't heard their boss approaching.

Derek rubbed his face with one hand. "Last night when Emily saw me, she threw me out of her room. She's still refusing to see me."

Hotch blinked at the news. "That's uncharacteristic of her. The two of you have had your differences in the past but you've always managed to work them out."

"Not this time. She wouldn't let me explain," Derek said. "She's furious with me."

"She's taking the children's deaths hard," Dave added. "And is blaming herself."

Derek shot to his feet to defend his partner. "It's not her fault!"

Dave looked at him. "I know that and told her so. It's going to take a long time to convince her of that."

Hotch frowned slightly. "Maybe she'll be more open to hearing it from me. I am her boss after all."

"That might be true," Dave observed with a rueful chuckle. "But she's refusing to talk about it at all. She has retreated behind her walls."

"I'm afraid she is going to have to," Hotch said with a sigh. "That's why I'm here. I need to take her statement."

"Can't that wait for a few days?" Derek protested. "Emily needs time to adjust."

"I wholeheartedly agree but the higher ups don't. They want to make sure all the T's are crossed and the I's are dotted as quickly as possible."

The dark agent muttered a few choice words under his breath while Dave gave Hotch a look of sympathy. "I wish you the best of luck."

"I'll take all I can get," Hotch said with a small smile.

"You'll have to wait a bit though. The doctor is currently in with her."

* * *

Dr. DeCandido took one last look at Emily's stitches before pulling down the hospital gown. "Everything is looking good. A nurse will be in to put on a new bandage."

Emily, who had been staring a the ceiling during the entire examination, nodded and said, "Good. When do you think I can go home?"

Her question lacked her normal level of impatience at being cooped up for any period of time. It sounded like she had simply tossed it out there because it was expected of her. Her doctor, unaware of her dislike of hospitals, thought it was a normal question and responded so.

He settled into the visitor's chair and rested the chart in his lap. Emily's eyes drifted over to him. "I would like to keep you here for another three or four days. I want to make sure the infection is gone and that no other complications crop up."

"I see," Emily said in a flat voice.

"Today I want you to rest and regain some of your strength and depending on how you're doing we may try to get you out of bed and on your feet later. No walking around though. It will just be standing up to get the blood flowing. If not, we'll shoot for tomorrow." He instantly regretted his choice of words when she winced. "Then the following day you can start physical therapy on your leg."

"You do what you think is best."

"Good. I like it when my patients agree with me," he said with a smile. "It makes my job easier." Emily didn't return the smile.

 _Tough crowd_ , he thought in amusement as he consulted her chart. "Like I said before, everything looks good. All your numbers are well within norms. Blood work is showing no signs of infection, but as a precaution we'll give you a couple more rounds of your current antibiotics. I might be able to dial down your pain medication depending on how much pain you're in. On a scale of one to ten, and ten being you're dying from it. Where would you say you're at?"

Emily frowned as her hand hovered over the injury. She didn't want to look or touch it. She knew she would have to at some point, but right now she wasn't ready to face it.

"Maybe a two or a three," she decided. 'Most of the time it feels numb and every now and then there's a little pressure like pain."

Dr. DeCandido nodded. "The numbness could be caused by the pain meds or from the damage to your muscles and nerves." From there, he explained what damage caused by the bullet fragmenting and the steps he took to repair it.

When he was done, Emily let her gaze go back to the ceiling. "So you're saying I could be crippled for the rest of my life?" _God, this was just as bad as amputating her leg._

"It all depends on how well your injury heals and how physical therapy goes. I do believe there will be some impact on your mobility. It could be minor like the leg stiffening up from inactivity or from the weather to something like a permanent limp and constant pain. Only time will tell. You're young and in good shape so you have that in your corner."

Emily gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah, I guess I do."

"Well," he announced, standing up. "I'll go rustle up a nurse to finish up with the bandage so your friends can come back in."

"Thanks. I appreciate that."

Dr. DeCandido nodded and left his patient staring at the ceiling, trying hard not to cry at how fucked up her life just became. There was a possibility that she'd be... fine, relatively, but she could read the doctor's face. Odds weren't in her favor and that was a reality she wasn't sure how to face.

It was just Hotch who entered shortly after the nurse had finished re-bandaging the gunshot wound and departed. He settled into the visitor's chair, leaning forward slightly. "Hey," he greeted with an encouraging smile.

"Hey," Emily said, returning the smile.

Hotch noted that the smile didn't reach her eyes. "How are you feeling?"

Emily took that moment to study him, trying to figure out if he knew what her prognosis is. She didn't want to ask or mention it because she didn't want him, and to some extent the team, to know unless they have to. "Pretty good, even though I'm itching to go home."

"From what I understand that's not going to happen for a couple of days."

"You spoke to my doctor?" It wasn't a voice filled with accusation, but with resignation.

"Well you did give me your medical proxy," he pointed out.

"Oh...right." Shit. She had forgotten that. "So you know everything?"

"Depends on what you mean by everything," he responded, not wanting to outright say either way, especially if she would feel more comfortable if he didn't know.

"And the team?"

"They know what I know."

 _Wonderful,_ she thought. 'Okay…"

"Want to talk about it?"

Emily fidgeted with the sheet and blanket hiding her injury from view, folding down the edge, smoothing out the wrinkles and then folding it back up so she didn't have to look at him. "About what the doctor said?" she questioned.

"Yes."

"No. Time will tell what happens, I guess."

"Fair enough," he agreed, leaning back in the chair and crossing one leg over the other. "Want to talk about something else with me then?"

This time she looked at him. "What's on your mind, Hotch?"

"Well, I do need a statement. Think you're up for that?"

Not really. Everything from yesterday was still too raw for her. Every time she closed her eyes, all she saw was the dead children staring back at her, their accusing eyes asking her why she hadn't done more to save them. They weren't ready to die, not that they really understood what dying meant. But she also figured Hotch was getting pressure from above to tie everything up in a tidy little bow now instead of waiting until she returned to DC. Might as well get it over with and that way she wouldn't have to think about it again. Compartmentalizing did have its perks.

"I don't have much of a choice do I?"

"You do, but then I would have to hound you about it." A tiny smile tugged at his lips.

"That's no fun," she joked even though there wasn't a hint of humor in her voice.

Emily then took a deep breath, sank deeper into the pillows and with her hand absently rubbing her injured leg just above the bandage, she took Hotch her through it step by step, from the second she entered the cellar to the moment Derek started pounding on the front door.

"I almost had him, Hotch. I could see in his eyes that he was wavering. All I needed was a few more minutes, but Morgan screwed it up with his hero stunt."

What she didn't say was if she had done a better job at talking him down and getting him to surrender his gun, none of this would have come to pass. Well, she would still be in this hospital bed, but she wouldn't have the deaths of three children weighing heavily on her soul.

Hotch let her talk without interruption, only speaking when it seemed like she was done. "Morgan said upon entering the cellar, the UnSub had his weapon trained on you was ready to fire."

At this Emily vehemently shook her head. "If he wanted to kill me, he would have done it the second I entered the cellar. He only shot me to put me at a disadvantage. What Morgan saw was the UnSub turning around in response to him bursting through the door."

"We need to talk about that."

"What's there to talk about? Seems to me like Morgan did a nice job filling you in already."

"I need to know, Emily, why didn't you make the call. Why didn't you give the signal?"

"I was fine…"

Hotch's eyes went to the leg propped up on a pillow beneath the blanket. "You were shot."

Emily instinctively tried to cover it with her hand. "And you had to know that. I was there. I had to make a choice based on what was happening. I did. Giving the signal wasn't the best option."

"Really?" His eyebrows shot up. "And leaving yourself wounded, potentially dying, and in an unstable situation was the choice you made? Emily, I…"

"It was the right call," she interrupted.

"Funny, that's what Morgan says about his decision."

"That's not the same."

"Maybe not, but I don't think you're grasping the situation. Not calling us in put you at risk and jeopardized the team."

"Those kids died, Hotch! Don't you think I know that?" she yelled, losing control of the anger that has been simmering beneath the surface.

Hotch was taken aback by her sudden outburst. It was out of character for her to lose control like that. Normally she kept a tight lid on her emotions, but then there was nothing normal about this whole case.

"Emily, what happened was not your fault," he said gently.

"Then whose was it? Yours? Morgan?"

"The only person at fault was the UnSub. He's responsible for what happened."

She realized she was shouting and lowered her voice into a more civil tone before saying in an attempt to get him to drop the subject, "Great, then we're in agreement."

"It was his fault, but you risked your life."

"We do that every day on this job. How was that any different?"

"Because you were shot and bleeding. If the femoral artery was hit right away, you'd be dead."

"Well, then I would have died before you could even react to the signal even if I did give it," she said snidely.

"Emily," he sighed.

"I get it, Hotch. I understand the consequences of my choice." She looked around. She was living with the effects.


	4. Chapter 4

Emily sat in the chair by the window, gazing out at nothing in particular. Scattered around the hospital room were objects that normally could capture her attention: several books, a crossword puzzle book, her iPod, her eReader and the television. But none could hold her interest. She always ended up staring at the blank walls, the ceiling or out the window. Looking at nothing didn't require her to think, it allowed her to disappear into her head.

The team had left for DC earlier this morning. Strauss had recalled them stating, rather pointedly, that she couldn't have her best team sitting around when there were other serious cases that needed their attention. Emily's condition was steadily improving so there was no need for them to hover like a flock of mother hens until she was released from the hospital. Hotch tried to convince her otherwise, arguing that he didn't like the idea of leaving Emily behind in Mississippi and that it would only be for three days. Strauss was adamant, stressing that if they weren't back at Quantico by evening, they all would be in dereliction of duty. So with heavy hearts, the team said their goodbyes and headed for the airport.

Emily didn't mind; she really wasn't very good company. After her little chat with Hotch yesterday, she wasn't in the mood for talking and visiting. All she wanted to do was to brood about the possibility of being crippled for life, but the team would have nothing to do with that. Throughout the day, they drifted in and out of her room, usually in pairs or by themselves. She knew why they were doing it. They didn't want Derek to feel left out so while a few were in with her, the rest hung out with him. The arrangement was perfectly fine with her. She didn't want to see or talk to him.

When visiting hours were over, Emily couldn't have been happier. She was tired of pretending to be interested in what was going on around her. Now she could be alone and not think about anyone or anything. Unfortunately her alone time hadn't lasted long. Figuring Emily wanted to do this in private and not in front of her friends, the nurses waited until everyone was gone before coming in to help get her out of bed, up and moving. Standing proved to be more difficult that she thought it would be. Trying to put any weight on her leg made her simultaneously aware of the pain and numbness emanating from all over her thigh. The few hobbling steps over to the chair by the window seemed like a mile and Emily was exhausted by the exertion. She couldn't believe how much it took out of her and the nurses made her do it several more times before she turned in for the night.

Then this morning after the team left, Emily got to experience it all over again when she had her first round of physical therapy. By the time she returned to her room, she was beyond exhausted and fortified by a healthy dose of painkillers, she took a long dreamless nap. She had a bland lunch sitting in the chair and that's where she remained. So lost in her mind, Emily didn't notice the technical analyst enter the room. Nor did she hear her calling out her name. It was only Penelope's hand waving in front of her face that snapped her back to the here and now.

"Earth to Emily. Come in Emily," the perky blonde intoned.

Emily blinked several times to bring the room back into focus. "Penelope? What are you doing here?" she asked with a confused frown. "Aren't you supposed to be on the jet with everyone else?"

"One of the perks of my job is that I can do it anywhere, like your hospital room," Penelope said brightly and plopped into the other chair. "All I need is my handy dandy laptop and I can do my work from afar while I hang out with you."

Emily didn't like the sound of that. She loved Penelope to death as a friend, but this was too much togetherness for her liking. "That's not necessary, Pen. I'm fine."

The blonde arched an eyebrow. "Are you trying to get rid of me, Emily Prentiss?"

"No." _Yes_. "The team needs you more than I do. I'm just going to be resting or going to PT. Nothing exciting that warrants you sticking around for three days."

"Well, I took a few personal days and the team's on paperwork. No cases. So you're stuck with me."

Just wonderful, she mentally sighed. "So it seems."

"How are you doing?"

"I'm good," she lied. She had no clue how she was doing. She only felt numb and detached.

"I stopped by earlier, but they said you were at physical therapy so I went shopping." From a large bag that Emily hadn't noticed before, she pulled out a teddy bear decked out in blue scrubs, surgical cap and mask and lab coat.

Emily's face broke into a genuine smile. "How cute. Where did you get it?"

"Build a Bear." Seeing the smile warmed Penelope's heart. It has been missing in action or the past day and a half. "So how did it go?"

"How did what go?" Emily asked absently, pulling down the bear's mask to see what it's face looked like.

"Your physical therapy."

"Oh…that. Painful and exhausting. I took a long nap after that."

"Well they do say no pain no gain."

"I guess," Emily said with a disinterested shrug.

They fell silent when a nurse came in to check Emily's vitals and draw a little blood. Penelope leaned back and used that time to study her friend. It didn't take a profiler to notice Emily had retreated into her shell even further than she usually did. But perhaps that was to be expected. She blamed herself and unable to find a way to deal with it, Emily had lashed out at one of her best friends, going as far as to refuse to see him. The two of them had had their bumps in the road, sure, but her raven-haired warrior and Chocolate Adonis always found a way to get through their arguments. This time was different though.

Taking her usual tactic, Penelope decided to push forward anyway. Who better than to heal the apparent chasm that had formed between her two friends than the all-knowing Oracle?

"Have you had many visitors?"

Emily shot her a look, knowing all too well that Penelope knew exactly who had visited her. Hell, Emily was fairly certain she was the one scheduling most of the visits.

"Be careful, your face might stay like that," Penelope teased lightly to try and lighten the mood, although she was well aware of what kind of mood Emily was now in.

Emily didn't respond, electing to continue glaring at her for a moment before turning her gaze back to the window.

Tired of skirting around the issue and having to deal with Emily's thinly veiled scowling, Penelope went straight to the point. "Okay Em, I know you know I was going to ask. What's up with you and my Chocolate Adonis?"

"If you know me so well, you should've figured out I wouldn't want to talk about it," Emily spit back.

Penelope blinked at the brunette's brusque tone, but forged ahead regardless. "You're not getting off that easy. Why won't you let him in to see you?"

"He knows why."

"I asked you, pumpkin."

"It's none of your business."

Penelope scoffed. "Two of my closest friends are involved and you think I'm going to let it slide? No way, Jose. Now spill."

Emily remained stubbornly quiet, keeping her gaze locked on the window. Penelope stepped in front of the window and into Emily's line of vision.

"C'mon, Em. Talking will help."

"I really don't think it will," Emily said quietly.

"He just wants to explain—"

"I don't care. I don't want to see him."

"Em, come on," she pleaded. "He's waiting in the hallway. I could –"

"Why is he still here?"

"Because he cares about you."

Emily scoffed.

"Don't do that. That man is out there sitting on a cold hospital floor on the off chance you get your head on right and let him in." Well, technically he wasn't actually sitting on the floor, but in a chair just outside the door waiting and hoping. She was just trying to get her point across that Emily was being silly. "He's here because he loves you, just like we all do."

"I don't want him here," she said, thinking she made that clear so many times before, but no one seems to be listening.

"Well tough cookies, because he's here."

"I won't let him in."

"Ugh, fine." Penelope threw up her hands in surrender. "You guys are like two peas in a pod. You're both so stubborn and frustrating at times. You know you may be mad at him now, but everyone played a role in what happened. Why aren't you mad at any of them?"

"They didn't cause this," she responded.

"Neither did he. And it's not fair to put all the blame on him."

A pained expression crossed Emily's face. Penelope knew that look well: guilt.

"I'm a little tired. I think I'm going to try and get some rest," she pressed the call button on the remote to summon the nurse. She was still unable to move between the bed and chair without help.

"Em-" Penelope begged.

"Don't make me kick you out."

"I would never make you do that," she said quickly and dropped the subject of Derek. She knew the brunette well. Whenever Emily abruptly changed the subject that meant she didn't want to talk anymore.

Emily nodded and turned back to the window. Penelope flirted between staying a little longer or leaving. She twisted her hands nervously. "Do you need help getting back into bed?"

"No. I've called for the nurse."

Penelope had her answer. Emily wanted her to leave so that she wouldn't bear witness to the humiliation of being half carried back to the bed.

"Okay," she said and retrieved her purse from the rolling table. "I'll come back later." She'll go hang out with Derek and hope that when she got back, there will be a change in Emily's attitude.

Emily glanced away from the window and gave her a weak smile. "Could we do that tomorrow?" she asked. "I'm really tired."

Penelope waggled a finger at her. "So not happening. Like I said before, you're stuck with me for the duration of your hospital stay. You get some sleep and in the meantime I'll go rustle us up a sinfully delicious dinner. We'll dine together and maybe play a couple of rounds of Scrabble. I've been brushing up on my words. You game?"

Emily knew when she was beat. No matter how hard she pushed, the technical analyst wasn't going to budge. "I look forward to it," she said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Bye, Sweetie. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

"Bye."

Penelope exited the room just as two nurses, one male and the other female, entered. She paused just outside the door and listened to the female nurse as she spoke in a soft, low tone. She bit her lip in sympathy when Emily grunted in pain from them moving her. She was at a loss. Her best friend was hurting both mentally and physically and she desperately wanted to help. But Emily wasn't letting anyone in; she was pushing everyone away. Penelope felt like they were losing her.

* * *

We have to do something about Emily," Penelope told Hotch on the phone the day before Emily's scheduled release from the hospital. "She's getting worse."

Hotch glanced worriedly at Dave who had strolled into the office at the same time Penelope's call came through. "Has the infection returned?"

"No. According to her doctor the wound is healing nicely. It's her mental state. It's like Emily isn't even there. I mean she's physically in the room and yet she's not. I don't think she's said more than twenty words to me today and she's still refusing to see Derek."

"She's got a lot on her plate right now." The guilt she's feeling from not being able to save those kids. The possibility that her leg isn't going to fully recover from the gunshot. Her future. Her unwarranted anger towards Derek. "It's going to take time to process it all."

"I know that, Sir. I've seen Emily down before after a difficult case, but not this down."

This wasn't the Emily Prentiss she was used to. Where was the woman who fought every step of her recovery and was a pain in the ass to the nursing staff? Her hounding kept them on their toes. That wasn't the same woman that was lying in the hospital bed staring out the window. This one doesn't see to care and that worried her.

"I even brought it up with her doctor."

* * *

 _Derek and Penelope were milling around when Dr. DeCandido exited Emily's room and approached them. "How is she doing?" Derek asked as soon as he saw him._

" _Emily is doing better than I had expected. She seems to be healing nicely so I see no problem with her going home tomorrow." Both sighed in relief. "But she has a long recovery ahead and if she wants to be successful, she'll have to stick with the PT."_

" _Don't worry about that, Doctor," Penelope reassured him. "I intend on finding her the best physical therapist in the area and we'll make sure Emily goes to each and every session."_

 _The doctor smiled. "It's nice to see that she has such good friends to do that for her."_

" _We're her family," Derek simply stated. We're still family even if she won't let me see her, he thought._

 _Dr. DeCandido nodded and consulted the chart in his hands. "We'll have Emily attend one more round of PT in the morning and then give her some time to rest up from it. So I would say that you're free to take her home around mid-afternoon."_

" _That works for us."_

 _Penelope stepped forward. "Doctor, before you go I have one more question for you. It's about Emily's mental state. I'm..." she gestured at herself and Derek. "We're worried. She's not her normal self."_

 _He exhaled slowly as he composed his thoughts, Emily's chart pressed against his chest. "That's certainly possible. You know her better than I do. At this moment, Emily might seem stable or a little off, but with uncertain recoveries like hers, emotional issues seem to pop up and things could get bad quickly."_

 _Derek was instantly worried. "What should we do to help her?"_

" _First of all, I'm not saying that will happen," he was quick to caution. "But you should make an effort to assure that it doesn't. I do recommend some kind of therapy not only to help with that, but to also allow Emily to keep up the fight to continue PT."_

* * *

"As I told Dr. DeCandido, I've started looked at rehabilitation centers. I only want the best physical therapists for our Emster," Penelope said.

"I'll pay for it if her insurance won't cover it all," Dave added.

Hotch ran a finger along the edge of his desk. "I think it would be in Emily's best interest if we enroll her for inpatient rehab."

"How so?"

"We know she needs PT and we want to give her the best shot at a full, or as close to a full recovery as she can get so I think this is our best option."

The thought that Emily could be permanently disabled weighed heavily on his shoulders and those of the team. But his burden was harder to bear than theirs. It was his decision to accede to the UnSub's demand and let Emily go in alone and unarmed. He would have to live with the consequences for the rest of his life just like Emily will have to live with her disability.

Dave nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense. As an outpatient, we would make sure she made every session, but at some point we'll have to go out on a case and have to leave Emily on her own."

"And knowing Emily as we do," Penelope chimed in. "She probably wouldn't keep her appointments, especially ones for the shrink."

"You know," Dave said, leaning forward in his chair. "A friend's son was injured in Afghanistan and spent some time at a rehab center in Alexandria that specializes in treating our wounded warriors. They cater to both the physical and mental injuries."

"Maybe we can send Emily there," Penelope said excitedly. "We'll kill two birds with one stone. Get her the counseling she needs while she's doing her PT."

"That's what I was thinking."

"Let's not pin our hopes on this one place," Hotch pointed out. "Garcia, continue your research into other suitable places and Dave…"

He stood up. "I'll make some calls."

"So operation Emily in therapy is a go?" Penelope asked over the phone.

"It's a go," Hotch agreed while in the back of his mind he wasn't sure how Emily was going to react to their meddling.

* * *

"Everything's set. Ready to go?" Penelope asked her moping friend.

"I'm ready to get out of here," Emily replied, not exactly enthusiastic about having to travel back with Derek or share a plane with a bunch of strangers.

"Good. Derek's bringing all the stuff to the car and pulling it up to the entrance. I'm ready to head down when you are."

Emily nodded and decided not to fight the wheelchair policy, allowing Penelope to push her around. The blonde kept trying to engage Emily, but she didn't get much out of her friend. At that point, Emily just figured everyone was making arrangements for her, what she had to say didn't matter.

When they were out of the hospital, Derek had the car already waiting near the entrance. He was standing there, leaning against the hood until he saw them and approached. Penelope wheeled Emily toward the car and Derek offered his help.

"I can do it," Emily insisted. She didn't want him helping her into the car. She didn't want anyone helping.

Derek backed up and gave her space, waiting to jump in if she needed him. After a few failed attempts, she finally gave in. Sighing, she gave him a silent signal to try again. And, with his aid, she got into the back to the SUV. All of them finally in the car, they were ready to move. It made for an awkward, somewhat uncomfortable ride, and they just hoped things would be better by the time they were on the plane.

Once they cleared security, Emily insisted on crutching her way down the concourse to the gate. Penelope trotted along at her side, trying to convince her to use a wheelchair or hitch a ride on one of the airport's shuttle carts. Derek brought up the rear with their carry-ons wisely keeping his opinions to himself. Every time Penelope brought up the wheelchair, Emily's frown deepened until she reached her breaking point. She stopped so abruptly that Derek almost ran into her and Penelope continued on for a few steps before she realized what happened.

Not wanting to make a scene in the middle of the airport, Emily kept her voice low, but her eyes conveyed what she was feeling. "Garcia, I don't need nor want to use a wheelchair or the damn shuttle cart. I'm not some invalid that needs to be ferried around."

"I was only trying—"

"I know what you're trying to do. Stop it," she said curtly and crutched off.

Penelope stood, mouth slightly agape, staring at her friend's departing back. "But…"

Derek sidled up to her, adjusting one of the straps draped over his shoulder. "Let it go, Baby Girl," he suggested.

"I was just trying to be helpful."

"I know and so does Emily deep down. Right now she's hurting mentally and doesn't want to appear weak in public."

"I wish she would let us in and talk about what's swirling about in her head."

"So do I. Hopefully the shrink at the rehab center gets through to her."

* * *

By the time they caught up with Emily, she had reached the gate and was sitting in one of the seats by the floor to ceiling windows, moodily watching the planes taking off in the distance. Her body language told them in no certain terms that she wanted to be left alone so they gave her the space she desired. They settled in a couple of seats down from her and talked quietly amongst themselves while they kept a discrete eye on her, ready to hop up if she needed anything.

Emily could feel their eyes on her, but chose to ignore them. She shouldn't have snapped at Penelope like that. She was only trying to be a good friend, but after the past couple of days of togetherness at the hospital, her desire to be helpful has become grating. This damn injury was making it difficult to get around, but it didn't make her an invalid. It was just a minor setback. After some physical therapy her leg will be as good as new.

 _Yeah. Right_ , she thought with a snort. _Keeping telling yourself that, Emily, and one day you may actually believe that._

She stole a glance at them. She would apologize to Penelope for her testiness when he wasn't around. As she returned her gaze to the window, Emily hoped the flight would be overbooked and Derek would be forced to take a later flight. She really didn't want to spend two hours trapped on a plane with him. Penelope might force her to talk with him.

So lost in her brooding, Emily didn't notice one of them approaching until they were almost on top of her. Much to her chagrin it was Derek.

He gave her a tentative smile as he held out a paper bag and a large cup with a domed lid. "I thought you might be hungry. Penelope said you didn't have much of a lunch and I know you don't like airplane food so I got you something greasy and a milkshake to wash it down."

Emily gazed at the proffered food with mixed emotions. She should say no. She didn't want to accept anything from him, but at the same time she was hungry and greasy sounded good.

"Thank you," she said grudgingly as she accepted the meal.

Instead of going back to sit with Penelope, he sat down next to her. Emily ignored him and focused on devouring the philly cheese steak sandwich and curly fries, hoping he would go away. It didn't work.

"So, happy to be getting home?"

She slowly lowered the sandwich and turned to glare at him. "Don't do that," she snapped.

"Do what?" he defensively asked.

"That!" She said. "Acting like this is any old conversation between friends. As if nothing has changed."

"Emily..." Derek started, "we are friends."

"I don't know what we are, Morgan."

"Don't say that."

"You can't think that handing me some food fixes everything. I was hungry and I took it. Don't read more into it than that."

"I just want to talk to you. Hear me out," he insisted.

"Don't you get it?!" She shook her head. "I don't want to hear it. Maybe one day I will, but not now."

"That's not fair, Emily. "

"Life's not fair," she quipped. "Get over it."

Having said all she wanted to say, Emily pointedly turned her back to him and resumed eating her sandwich. Derek stared at her back for a long minute before letting out a resigned sigh and getting up. Penelope remained silent, giving his shoulder a sympathetic squeeze when he rejoined her. She felt so bad for him…for them and there was no way to help them. She had tried to no avail. Her two best friends were just going to have to find some common ground and work through it. Otherwise she was witnessing the slow death of a strong friendship.


	5. Chapter 5

Once Emily was situated at the residential rehabilitation center in Alexandria that Dave had picked out for her, she focused all of her energy on her physical therapy sessions. She was bound and determined to prove to both doctors, the one back in Mississippi and the one who reevaluated her leg here, wrong and make a full recovery with no lingering complications. In her first week she felt like she was making great strides and was ahead of schedule, though her therapists were more cautious about her progress. But the mental side of her recovery wasn't improving at the same pace, it was actually getting worse. Whenever she wasn't in therapy, Emily was either in her room staring at the bird feeder Penelope had kindly hung outside her window in an attempt to cheer her up or out in the garden looking at nothing, lost in her head.

Emily was distancing herself even further from her friends. She still refused to see Derek and wouldn't let anyone talk about him. Upon returning to DC, Strauss thought Hotch had been too lenient with the three-day suspension and suspended Derek for a full two weeks. Now with plenty of free time on his hands he came every day multiple times and each time he was politely rebuffed by the staff. Whenever her teammates visited, which was every chance they had, the conversations were pretty much one sided. They did all the talking while Emily barely nodded or answered questions with monosyllables. Sometimes it seemed like she wasn't even listening. On the few occasions when one of them got her to smile, it was one that never reached her eyes. Emily was slowly sinking deeper into depression.

* * *

Dr. Allison Fielding stood just outside the open door, gazing in, studying the woman sitting by the window. The private room was colorfully decorated with photos, drawings and accessories to make the space feel more like home than a sterile hospital room. The decorating extended to the walker stationed next to the chair. It was bright blue with flames shooting off the legs and sporting a bicycle horn. From here it appeared Emily was watching the two cardinals sedately munching on black sunflower seeds. But if she actually followed Emily's line of sight, she was gazing out into the distance at nothing in particular. If she were to peer into her eyes, they would be unfocused and turned inward, indicating she was lost in whatever thoughts were swirling in her mind.

She rapped her knuckles on the doorframe. When Emily didn't acknowledge her presence, the doctor entered the room and made her way over. Intentionally she stepped between her and the window, causing the cardinals to seek safety in the nearest bushes.

"Emily Prentiss?" she asked pleasantly.

Emily started, blinking as her mind snapped back from wherever it had been lurking. She looked up to find a tallish woman in her early forties standing in front of her. Her friendly eyes were gray and her wavy light brown hair fell just below her shoulders.

"Uh…yes. And you are?"

"Dr. Allison Fielding," she said, holding out her hand. "I'm your therapist."

Emily frowned in confusion as they shook hands. "I already have a therapist. Several actually."

"I'm sorry. I should have said I'm a psychologist."

"Oh." Wariness crept into her eyes.

"May I have a seat?" She gestured at the empty chair. Emily reluctantly nodded. "Thank you. Here we treat both the physical and mental injuries since one often impacts on the other."

"Oh?" Emily repeated.

"You didn't know that?"

Emily shook her head while muttering under her breath. "Nobody tells me a damn thing." All that Penelope told her was that she was going to be an inpatient at the best rehab center in Virginia for six weeks. There was no mention of shrinks on campus. She wasn't happy with this latest development.

"In addition to your twice daily PT sessions, you'll be seeing me three times a week during your six weeks stay with us. Hopefully you'll continue the sessions with me once you become an outpatient."

"Interesting."

The two fell silent. Emily, seething inside, watched her with wary eyes, wishing she would go and leave her alone. The good doctor watched her watching her, knowing that she wasn't wanted. She noted the dark circles from lack of sleep under Emily's eyes and the way she was worrying a thumbnail.

"Well. Thanks Doctor…Fielding, for stopping by and paying me a visit," Emily said in an attempt to get rid of her. "I'm sure you have other clients that need your attention."

Dr. Fielding smiled and settled more comfortable in her chair. She could tell right off the bat that Emily might be a difficult patient to get through to. Her protective walls were already up. "Please call me Allison and actually you're my last patient of the day so there's no need for me to rush off. Why don't we chat a little?"

"Let's say we don't," Emily said, her jaw tightening in annoyance.

"Why not?"

She ground her teeth together. "I just rather not. I want you to leave. I didn't ask for your help so you have no right to be here."

"I'm afraid I do. Your sessions with me are mandatory. It's part of your wellness program."

"Lucky me," Emily quipped.

Allison smiled, already liking the injured agent. "I'm just going to give you a brief overview of what a typical session is like. We'll be meeting in my office every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Today's visit is just a courtesy call. Everything you tell me will remain private, unless you grant me permission to share or you become a danger to yourself or to others."

"Fat chance of that happening."

"We can discuss the incident that led to your injury, what the injury means, your potential for recovery and anything else you might want to talk about."

Emily rolled her eyes in annoyance. "I know how therapy works," she snapped.

"Oh?" the doctor asked, leaning forward. "You've been in therapy before? When?"

Emily realized she said too much and turned her angry eyes back to the window and the birds that had returned to the feeder. She hadn't meant to mention the mandatory therapy she had to attend when she returned to the BAU after Doyle. While in hiding she didn't have access to the mental help that she probably needed, not that she would have voluntarily sought it out.

Allison knew she had worn out her welcome. She could stay and continue to push to get Emily to open up some, but she sensed it would only make Emily dig in her heels and clam up. She would let it go for now and come at her from a different direction at their first official session.

"That's okay, you don't have to answer that. We'll save that for another day. But before I go, I was wondering if you'd mind if I read the case file to better understand you and the situation?"

Emily considered refusing, but decided it wasn't worth her effort. If she said no, odds were that the doctor would still find a way to get it. "Knock yourself out," she said with a dismissive wave of the hand.

"Thank you, Emily. I'll see you in my office Monday at 4 o'clock."

 _Not like I have much of a choice in the matter_ , she thought ruefully. If she didn't show up, the doctor would hunt her down and that wouldn't be hard to do. With her limited mobility she hasn't been able to explore the facility fully and find all the best hiding spots for some peace and quiet. "I'll be there with bells on," she said with no trace of humor in her voice.

Dr. Fielding found it amusing and was still chuckling over it as she walked back to her office. Her newest patient has a wry sense of humor; using the sarcasm to hide behind in addition to the mental barricades she had heard slamming into place when Emily learned she was a psychologist. It was going to take all of her skills to get Emily to open up and talk about what was troubling her. You didn't have to be a doctor to see that she was struggling and that made Allison more determined to help her. It would be a challenge, but she loved challenges.

* * *

Their first session together didn't get off to a great start. Emily arrived promptly at four, sans the bells, as promised, but spent the next fifteen minutes silently contemplating a spot on the distant wall. At one point Allison asked how her physical therapy went, all she got was fine. Emily was proving to be a woman of few words.

Normally Allison would let the silence linger, knowing that at some point it would get to her patient and they would start talking just to fill it. But Emily wasn't a normal patient. According to her file, she was an FBI agent trained to study behavior, to conduct cognitive interviews and interrogate suspects. She knew all the tricks of the trade and how to get around them. There has to be a way to break the ice or this session would end up a waste of time.

Allison's eyes fell on the walker stationed next to the armchair Emily occupied, her hand absently massaging her injured leg. "That's quite a colorful walker you have there. I especially like the bike horn."

The hand stilled and Emily's gaze briefly drifted over to the walking aid. "It's not my doing."

Success! Four words instead of one. "No?"

"My friend Penelope did it in an attempt to cheer me up. She likes bright and colorful things."

"That explains your room."

"Yeah. She thought it was too bland so she livened it up. The room was fine the way it was, but it makes her happy doing stuff like that so I didn't say anything to stop her."

Allison nodded. The ice has been broken and the words were starting to flow. "You have what appears to be a very supportive great group of friends."

Emily smiled for the first time. "I do. They're my family."

"And they're worried about you."

"How do you know that?" Emily demanded, eyes narrowing in suspicion while sitting straighter in the chair.

"I met one of your friends the other day. He was very nice. He said he was Da—"

"Rossi," Emily huffed in annoyance and looked away, her mouth pressed into a thin line.

"Yes. He filled me in on what happened."

Emily muttered a few colorful Italian expletives that would make a rock blush under her breath before saying louder. "He needs to mind his own damn business."

"He's just worried about you," Allison said. "Your whole team is."

She frowned. "They don't need to. I'm fine."

She arched an eyebrow. "Are you?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Yes."

Allison rested her elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled her fingers. "They seem to think that you aren't. He said you are uncommunicative and distant. He…they are worried that you have sunk into a depression."

Emily became defensive. "I am not depressed!"

"Then why don't you talk with them when they visit?"

She glared at her. "Because there is nothing to talk about. I don't want to discuss how my day went because they're all the same. I wake up and have breakfast. I attend my morning occupational therapy session. I eat lunch. Then I have physical therapy in the afternoon. Dinner rolls around, I watch some TV and then hit the sack. It's nothing to write home about."

As soon as she was done, Emily looked away. Her inability to meet her eyes told her that wasn't the real reason why. "I see. It does sound a little repetitious, but it shows how much they care about you by visiting every day and asking how your day is going."

"I guess," she grumbled.

"Since we're on the subject of your friends, why don't you tell me a little about them? I would like to get to know them so lets start with your boss Aaron Hotchner," Allison suggested, wanting to get Emily talking again.

Here Emily was on firmer ground. This she had no problem with doing. She would gladly talk about the team any day of the week as long as she didn't have to talk about herself and the guilt she carried or not being able to save the children. It was a welcome distraction and one she wasn't going to waste.

"Everybody calls him Hotch," she began.

The more Emily talked about her friends, the more relaxed she became, allowing the words to flow easier from her lips. Yet, at the same time, Dr. Fielding noted she was doing her best to avoid mentioning a certain member of the team. Before the session she had read up on the case that resulted in Emily's possible career ending injury, that was how she met David Rossi, and knew all the participants.

Allison pretended to consult her notes. "I've noticed you have yet to mention Derek Morgan."

The change in Emily was instantaneous. Gone was her relaxed and casual manner. Instead, her body was stiff with tension and a guarded look came to her dark brown eyes. They had entered forbidden territory.

"There's nothing to say about him," she retorted, defensively folding her arms across her chest.

"Why not? He's your friend and a member of your team."

"We don't know that I'm going to be part of that team anymore."

"Even so, that doesn't negate that there's a relationship there."

"No?"

"No, Emily. It's odd not bringing him up at all. Not even a casual mention. It's my understanding that Derek is your partner in the field and you protected each other's backs."

Emily's tone was growing more querulous with each passing second. "It's not odd at all. He's just a guy I work with. That doesn't mean I have to be friends with him."

"He seems to think he's your friend. Why else does he show up here everyday hoping to see you? Why is that?"

Emily didn't know how to answer that so she said instead, "I thought this was happening at my pace? You must've figured out by now that he's a topic I'm avoiding, obviously."

"Right," Allison agreed with a nod.

"So move on."

"Is that what you want, Emily? To move on from him?"

 _Why won't she just let it go?_ "I didn't say that," she retorted angrily.

"You didn't not say that either. Why are you so angry at Derek?"

"I'm not angry with him."

"Yes, you are. I can hear the anger as clear as day in your voice. What did he do?"

"He fucking screwed up!" Emily shouted with a glare.

"How did he screw up?" Allison pressed gently.

That was it. She has had enough of this crap. "That's it," she declared with a vehement shake of her head. "I'm done talking."

Emily would have loved to storm out of the office, slamming the door behind her to make her point perfectly clear, but all she could do at this moment was an old lady hobble that would defeat the purpose. Instead she lapsed into a brooding silence that lasted until the end of the session.

* * *

The next day Dave caught Emily on her way back from her afternoon session of physical therapy. It warmed his heart to see her up on her feet and walking, even though she was leaning on the walker and moving with a pronounced limp.

"Afternoon, Kiddo," he said in greeting with a bright smile.

Emily brushed right past him, giving him the cold shoulder. Dave shrugged it off and fell into step with her. She refused to look at him and picked up her pace. As he quickened his step to keep up, he caught a glimmer of anger burning in her dark brown eyes.

Dave hooked his thumbs in the back pockets of his jeans and arched an unrepentant eyebrow. "I'm guessing you're pissed at me for some reason?"

She abruptly stopped, whirled and leveled a withering glare at him. "Gold star for you, Dave," she said with derisive snort and resumed walking.

He stared at her departing back. "I'll take that as a yes," he said with a wry smile and hurried to catch up.

He waited until they were back in her room and the door closed before resuming the conversation. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say you're pissed that I had a little chat with your shrink." When she didn't respond, Dave knew he was on the right track. That's wasn't my original intention. I planned on dropping off the case file she requested, but we got to talking."

"Uh huh."

"I was just trying to help. I…we have been worried about you."

Emily stopped on the other side of the bed and exhaled loudly in frustration. "God! I'm getting damn tired of hearing that. How many times do I have to tell you I'm fine?"

Dave crossed his arms and leaned casually against the wall, amusement on his face. "Emily, we all know that whenever you say that you're fine, you aren't."

She scowled at him from across the room. "Would you prefer I use a different word? How about okay, well, great, healthy, all right, splendid, in good health."

"I have a few too," he countered. "Struggling, guilt ridden, lost."

Emily stared at him wide eyed in shock, telling Dave he had just hit the nail on the head. To cover up her discomfort, she sat on the bed with her back to him and started to take her shoes off.

"This really isn't a good time for a visit," grunting in pain as she raised and bent her bad leg to untie the laces. "I'm sweaty, sore and tired. All I want to do is to take a hot shower then take a nice long nap. Maybe tomorrow?"

 _She's trying to push me away. Not a chance of that happening_ , he thought. The team had decided that they needed to keep her engaged, do not let her retreat behind her walls. Plus Dave highly doubted Emily was going to take an actual nap even though he could tell she needed one. She was more likely to plant her butt in the chair and stare out the window for hours.

Dave pushed off the wall and made his way over to one of the two chairs in the room. He sat down, leaned back and propped his feet up on the end of the bed.

"You can nap later. I took off the rest of the afternoon to hang out with you and that's what I intend to do."

Emily looked sideways at him. "Dave," she warned.

He folded his hands in his lap. "I'm not leaving so go take your shower." He refrained from making a shooing motion knowing it would irk her.

She opened her mouth to protest then closed it just as quickly when she realized Dave wasn't going to budge one inch from that chair. Grumbling under her breath, Emily shot him another one of her scathing looks before gathering up her toiletries and a change of clothes. Then she hit Dave's leg with the walker to get him to move his feet so that she could get by. With a crooked grin he did so and Emily stormed off to the bathroom.

* * *

When she returned from her shower, damp hair pulled back into a ponytail, Emily found that Dave was not alone. Lying next to his chair was a dog. When the Black Lab spotted her, he jumped to his feet and let out a happy bark. With his tail wagging a mile a minute, he tried to go to her, but Dave maintained a tight hold on the leash. Even with the walker, Emily was still a little unsteady on her feet and he didn't want Mudgie to accidentally knock her down in his ebullience, possibly re-injuring her leg.

"Dave, isn't that your dog, Fudgie?" she asked, vaguely remembering hearing a dog barking and whining the few times she had been to his house, or as he liked to call it, a mansion. She didn't know that whenever Dave had company, he put Mudgie in his crate because the dog got overexcited and made a pest of himself.

"Mudgie," he corrected.

"Right…Mudgie. How did you get him in here?"

"I said he was a certified therapy dog."

Emily shuffled over to the bed and sat down, abandoning her dirty clothes along the way. Dave loosened up on the leash just enough to allow Mudgie to get his front paws on the bed and try to shower her face with sloppy kisses. She laughed, a genuine laugh that he hadn't heard in over two weeks, and turned her face away.

And they believed you?" she asked in surprise, giving the dog's ears a scratch after he calmed down.

Dave grinned at the scene. They always say an animal, especially a cute one like Mudgie, were the best medicine for a hurting heart. "He's here, isn't he?"

Emily chuckled and scratched him harder, making the dog sigh in contentment. "Why did you bring him?"

"Well, for one, I didn't want to leave him in the car too long. You know how hot they can get and that black coat of his just sucks in the heat."

"So does Sergio's," Emily said, suddenly missing her cat. Even though she knew he was being well taken care of by Penelope, she still wished he could be here with her. "You said for one so I'm assuming there's another reason you brought your dog along?"

"So I did." Dave held up two fingers. "And two. Now that you're more mobile I thought you might like a change of scenery. I was thinking I could sign you out for a couple of hours and go to the park. We could pick up some sandwiches on the way and you can spend the rest of the time soaking in some rays or playing with Mudgie."

Emily hesitated and glanced around the room that had been her home away from home for a little over a week. The Rehab Center had become her refuge, a place where she could hide from the real world and all its bad memories and death. She didn't want to face that reality. But when she looked in Mudgie's eager eyes, she knew she couldn't say no.

"I guess I can handle a couple of hours," she conceded with a shy smile.

"Great," Dave said with his own smile. "You get your shoes on while I'll go sign you out and get the car." He stood up and headed for the door.

"Okay," she agreed and retrieved her shoes.

She had no trouble getting the right one on, but struggled with the left, her injured leg picking the wrong time to be uncooperative. As she mechanically tied the laces, she gazed thoughtfully at the walker and decided on using her crutches. The walker was fine for shuffling back and forth between therapy sessions, but with the way it was decked out, she wouldn't be caught dead with it out in public. She and it would stick out like a sore thumb and everyone would pity the poor woman who could barely walk. The crutches would blend in more and make her feel like her old self and not the invalid she was now.

* * *

The afternoon turned out to be perfect for an outing in the park. The sky was bright blue with wispy clouds and the temperature was a comfortable mid-seventies. Emily didn't want to sit on a bench or at a picnic table so Dave spread the blanket he had found in the trunk under the broad branches of a red maple. Once Emily had found a comfortable position to sit in, he unpacked the sandwiches they had picked up on the way. They ate in silence while the Mudgie gave them beseeching looks, hoping he would be granted a nibble. In the end Emily only ate half of hers, but he didn't push the issue because he didn't want to spoil the good mood she was in.

Because they were good friends, they didn't need to fill the time with conversation, simply preferring each other's company. In between the smattering of chitchat, Emily was either reading from the book she brought along, enjoying being outside the confines of the rehab center or playing fetch with Mudgie. Dave, on the other hand, took an unplanned nap. He hadn't realized he had nodded off until Emily nudged him in the ribs, informing him that his snoring was scaring off the birds. Of course he denied it, earning a smirk from her.

But the best part of the trip was watching his dog jockey for her attention and affection. He smiled at the happiness Mudgie's silly antics brought to her eyes and to her laughter. Both had been missing in action since that fateful day when the blame and guilt had consumed her. He knew her good mood wouldn't last forever, he was just happy that he was able to give her a few hours of peace and relaxation.

Unfortunately with all trips, it must come to an end. With the sun starting to set, they knew it was time to pack up and head for home. Dave stood up first, dusted off his pants and then held out a helping hand. At first Emily was going to refuse, saying she could do it herself, but when she shifted her weight, she sadly realized she couldn't get up on her own yet. Swallowing her pride, she slipped her hands into his and let him pull her to her feet. He retrieved her crutches and they slowly made their way back to the car.

* * *

The drive back to the Rehab Center was a quiet affair. Emily gazed pensively out the windshield, idly twisting the rubberized grip on one of the crutches. In the back seat, Mudgie had his head hanging out the window, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. Every couple of minutes he would switch sides. Dave made a mental note to get the car detailed after this was over. There were black dog hair and slobber over every surface back there.

"Do you want me to walk you in?" Dave asked when they pulled up to the front entrance.

"No. I'm good," Emily said as she eased out of the car. She closed the door then reached through the open window to give each dog a final pat. Mudgie let out a low whine, not wanting to say goodbye to his new friend.

"Okay," he agreed.

Emily nodded. She took a few limping steps toward the entrance, turned and came back to the car. She leaned down to look through the still open window. "Thank you," she said softly.

"Always, Kiddo," Dave said with a tender smile. "Want to do this again in a few days time?"

"I would like that."


	6. Chapter 6

After the outing in the park with Dave and his dog, Emily tried to be more outgoing when the team was able to visit, but she found it very hard. A dark cloud of gloom constantly lurked over her shoulder and inside, her heart felt heavy and empty. She just couldn't shake the guilt, her compartmentalizing skills failing her for the first time in her life. It didn't help that she felt guilty each time they had given up a little of their precious free time between cases to visit her during the six weeks she was an inpatient and then, when she became an outpatient, driving her to her PT sessions. They all knew she was trying and failing at it, which only added to her guilt and deepened the depression.

She felt bad when Hotch and JJ had informed her that the boys wanted to see her and she turned both of them down. She didn't want Jack and Henry to see her this way, to see the bad limp and, first the walker, and then the cane. Emily wanted them to remember her the way she used to be; the fun aunt who would run around with them or get down on the floor to play. She could still get down on the floor, but needed someone's helping hands to get back up. The boys, of course, were disappointed, but it didn't stop them from drawing her pictures. Her room at the rehab center had been covered with them. Emily wanted to put every one of them away in a drawer, but Penelope wouldn't let her, saying she needed to see the cuteness and the love.

Emily put a lot of hard work into her recovery. She put everything she had into the physical therapy sessions waiting to see the results. There was improvement, of course, but she wanted more, and she pushed for more. But, as the weeks passed into months and the progress reached its plateau, Emily was forced to look at reality. Maybe she couldn't work her way through this one. She wasn't going to get better than where she was then, and wouldn't ever be like she was before.

In regards to her sessions with the shrink, Emily was a dutiful patient. She went into therapy mostly because she was pressured to and it was part of the rehab program, and she was pretty adamant that she wasn't going to be extremely forthcoming. And she wasn't. She was resistant. She participated just enough that she never got reprimanded. It wasn't that she was against therapy. People who needed help should get it, but she wasn't sure she was one of those people. Dr. Fielding didn't agree. Apparently, what little she did share and her overall melancholia led the dear doctor to believe she was suffering from depression.

"I wrote you a prescription," she told Emily. "It will help with the depression."

"I'm not depressed," Emily insisted.

The doctor also wrote her a script for something to help her sleep. She declined that too. Still, the prescriptions were there and it was up to Emily to get them filled. She never did, though, she came close a time or two.

All and all, the whole experience was neither bad nor good. She understood she wasn't the best patient, but she also knew she had her reasons. After the first few meetings, Emily became a bit more willing to share, but never completely opened up, and perhaps that was why she never had that great experience with therapy, but her mind was more focused on the physical recovery, especially when that plateaued. That, however, was when she actually talked with Dr. Fielding.

* * *

"Emily, you seem quieter than normal," Allison observed. They had been sitting there for ten minutes without a word being exchanged between them. "Something heavy must be weighing on your mind."

Emily played with the cane resting between her knees. "I'm not having the best of days," she admitted.

"Does this have anything to do with your doctor's appointment this morning?"

"Why would you assume that?"

"I don't assume anything, Emily. That's why I asked. What's going on?"

Her hand went to her thigh and began massaging the scar. Just thinking about it made it hurt. "My leg isn't getting any better."

"You knew there was a strong possibility that there could be permanent damage to your leg."

"I know, but I thought…" she trailed off.

"You thought what?" Allison pressed. This was the first time in all of their sessions that Emily was more forthcoming and she wasn't about to waste the opportunity to make some progress.

"I thought it would be better than this."

"You thought you'd defy the odds."

Emily sighed. "No…maybe. I just thought that, if I kept pushing myself I could get there."

"But it's not that easy."

"It hasn't been easy," she corrected. "But if I tried hard enough…I just wanted to believe that I could get it good enough. Not perfect but enough."

"Good enough for what?"

"Good enough to make things normal again."

"What does normal mean to you?"

Emily took a long time to answer. Staring off into the distance, she said, "Not going to PT. Not talking to you." Allison chuckled softly at that. "Being able to go for regular jog. Running and playing with my friend's kids. Being able to walk without a limp. Not having to use this damn cane to get around." She glared at the cane in her hand before throwing it down in disgust. "Basically everything I did before I got shot."

"Who says you can't do all of that? PT doesn't last forever and neither does therapy."

"Yeah…sure…I guess," she reluctantly agreed with a halfhearted shrug. "But the limp will last forever. Complete strangers and my friends will look at me differently and pity me."

"Isn't it possible that's just in your head?" Allison suggested. "Have they ever said that they felt sorry for you?"

"No, but they wouldn't say it to me. They just act differently.'

"Well, Emily. You're acting differently too."

Emily's eyes snapped over to her. "How?" she demanded defensively.

"You're withdrawn. Your focus is solely on your PT. Do you socialize with your friends beyond them driving you to your appointments?"

"No."

"And have you tried playing with the kids?"

A shake of the head. "I don't want them to see me this way."

"So consider this. Maybe they don't pity you, but are just sad for you because they know you're suffering and that suffering affects them too. You lost something in that room by being shot and witnessing what you did, but they lost that too. You're all grieving something abstract and just trying to make sense of it. You read that as pity, but I'm not sure that's what it is."

Emily shrugged again, letting that soak in. Maybe… "I don't want them to have to deal with this too or worry about me. And I really don't want the kids around to see me stumble or think I'm some kind of limping monster."

"I doubt the kids will think that. Children are quite resilient. They may be more curious than scared and once they know what happened, they'll be fine. They love you for who you are, not how you walk."

"Children are also some of the most brutally honest people," she shot back. "They'll say something and I don't know how to tell them about what happened."

"I'm sure you'll think of something."

Emily rolled her eyes while scoffing, "Right. If I don't see them I don't have to think of something."

"Then you're just punishing yourself and them," Allison stressed.

* * *

Allison's words were still swirling about Emily's head an hour later. JJ had called to say she was running late, so instead of sitting around waiting for her to show up, Emily went back to physical therapy room to try out the new exercises the therapist showed her. She sat down on the lifting bench and tried to mimic the movements that the therapist taught her. The first time she tried was hard, but she expected it to be, though she did think she'd be able to at least do it. She couldn't. The second and third time she got just a little further, but that was it. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't do it. And she did try. Repetitively, Emily attempted the exercise.

"Come on. Come on," she encouraged herself through it. She repeated the steps in her head, coaching herself. "Ugh," she groaned, a frustrated sweat growing on her brow.

Why couldn't she do it? She wanted to yell or cry... something. It was a simple exercise, one she should have been able to do, and yet, there she was, struggling to even try something a child could master in two seconds.

Ten minutes of trying and Emily was beyond annoyed with herself. More than that, now her body was aching. The repetitive motion was making her leg revolt. Still, she had to try one more time. Unfortunately, she still couldn't do it and she could feel cramping in her muscles.

"Damn it," she sitting up. "Why can't I fucking do this?" Angry, she grabbed her bottle and squeezed it, but, before realizing what she was doing, she let out a growl and chucked the bottle. "Ugh!"

The water bottle struck the wall with a loud thud at the same time JJ stepped into the room. She looked from it to Emily before stooping to retrieve it and making her way over to her friend's side.

"What did the water do to you to make you give it the old heave ho?" she teased, holding it out. "Did it dribble all over you?"

Flushing with embarrassment, Emily snatched the water bottle out of JJ's hand, twisted off the top and gulped down half of its contents. "I wish," she grumbled when she was done. "I'm just a little frustrated."

JJ refrained from saying that it looked more like angry than frustrated. "With one of your exercises? I can help you with it if you want," she offered.

"No!" Emily said more sharply than she intended. She didn't want or need her friend's help…or pity.

"Okay," JJ backed down. "Are you ready to go or do you want to work on your exercises? I can wait."

"No. I'm done here." Emily used a towel to wipe her sweat slick brow before grabbing her cane and limping toward the exit.

JJ didn't even bother to suggest that Emily wait by the curb while she fetched the car. She did it once and it pissed her friend off. She distinctly remembered the determined look on Emily's face, teeth clenched in pain as she leaned heavily on the cane. After that she tried to park as close to the building as possible so Emily wouldn't have to walk as far. She unobtrusively adjusted her pace to match Emily's slower one. At this point in time, Emily wasn't going to be winning any footraces and she never would if her leg didn't improve. It was a reality everyone was having difficulty accepting.

They made it to the car without difficulty and as she started the engine and put it in reverse, JJ said, "I have to pick up Henry from the sitter. Do you want to come along or would you prefer I drop you off at home first?"

This wasn't the first time JJ had made the suggestion and every time Emily turned her down flat. But today Allison's parting words remained fresh in her mind even after the complete failure of doing the new exercises.

Then you're just punishing yourself and them.

Emily didn't have an answer then and she didn't have one now. She thought she was protecting them so that they wouldn't be scared by her appearance, but maybe she was, in actuality, just protecting herself from the boys rejecting her, the hurt that she wasn't the same person they loved.

"I guess I can come along for the ride."

JJ almost sideswiped the neighboring car as she was backing out of the parking space. She had been expecting the usual refusal, so this was a pleasant surprise. She glanced at her friend. "You sure, Em?"

"Positive." She made a waving motion with her hand. "Now get moving. I don't want to spend the rest of my day sitting in the parking lot."

JJ grinned. "Can't let that happen," she agreed and put the car into gear.

* * *

It was a quiet drive to the sitters. Just like she always did when it was her turn to pick up Emily, JJ inquired how Emily's PT and therapy sessions went. Emily's answer was always the same. Both went fine and she really didn't want to talk about it because she had already done enough talking for one day. From there the conversation ground to a halt.

"Want to come with me?" JJ asked as she got out of the car.

Emily politely declined. "No thank you, JJ. I'll just wait here if you don't mind."

"Not at all. Be back in a few minutes," JJ said and went to fetch her son who was probably chomping at the bit to see his mother and go home.

Emily watched her friend disappear into the building, absently massaging her thigh. She had two very good reasons, or so she thought, for staying in the car. One, her leg was killing her and two, she wasn't ready to let Henry see her limp and cane. She sighed and rested her head against the headrest. Closing her eyes, she tried to will away the pain. So focused on her breathing, Emily didn't see mother and son come back out.

Holding on to JJ's hand, Henry skipped along at her side while prattling on about his day. Halfway to the car, he came to abrupt stop when he spotted someone sitting in the passenger seat. Tugging on his mom's hand, he asked who it was. When she said it was Emily, he squealed in delight, pulled his hand free of JJ's and rushed over to the car.

"Emmy, Emmy, Emmy!" he shouted, pounding his small hands on the window.

Emily started at the shouting, eyes flying open and desperately scanning her surroundings. It took several seconds for her to remember where she was and what she was doing. Henry. Looking to her right, she saw two little palms pressed against the glass and the top of a blonde head. Instead of opening the door, Emily opted to roll down the window.

"Hey there, short stuff."

Henry took a couple of steps back to get a better look. "Emmy!" he shouted even louder than the first time, his face breaking into a wide grin. Then doing his best impression of a monkey, he tried to climb through the car window to give her his best Henry hug.

JJ came around the car to corral her son. She scooped him up and dumped his squirming body into the car seat, buckling him in before he could scramble free and into the front seat. All the while, he was talking up a storm to Emily who couldn't get a word in edge wise. All she could do was to smile indulgently and nod, especially since she could understand only half of what he said.

His mother was the one to break through all the chatter. "Emily, do you want to head straight for home?"

Before Emily had a chance to say yes, Henry yelled from the backseat. "No! Emmy stay with Henry."

Emily turned in her seat to tell him she would love to stay, but she had things that needed to be done. Then she saw the sad eyes that looked on the verge of crying and the pouting lip and knew her goose was cooked. How could she say no to that? "I guess I can use some Henry time."

* * *

Henry kept up the chatter for the entire drive. Emily found it cute that he was still referring to himself in third person and his constant talking distracted her from her current troubles, back to the time when she felt normal. But reality set back in when JJ pulled up to the curb in front of her home. She had to get out of the car. Henry would see the cane and the limp and be afraid of her. Maybe it wasn't too late to change her mind.

It was. Henry was already out of his car seat and tugging on her door. "C'mon, Emmy."

She opened the door just wide enough for him to hear her. "Hey, short stuff, why don't you go with your mommy. I'll be there in a few minutes."

Henry wasn't that easily put off. He crossed his arms and stomped one small foot on the sidewalk. "No! Henry walk with Emmy."

"Henry," JJ warned.

Emily sighed and held up a hand. "It's okay, JJ. I'll be honored to be escorted to the house by the handsomest little blonde boy I know."

"Me!" He poked a thumb at his chest.

"The one and only."

She opened the door all of the way, eased her bad leg around and took hold of the car frame with both hands. Emily took several deep breaths to prepare for the rejection that was about to come before levering herself out of the car with a grunt. Leaning heavily on the cane, Emily moved out from behind the door and into full view.

The first thing Henry noticed was the cane, and, being the curious young boy that he was, he had to check it out. He stepped closer.

"Is that magic?" he asked her, wide blue eyes looking at it in awe.

Surprised by that response, Emily could only think to say, "No."

"So it's not like a giant wand?"

"Nope. Definitely not magic." If it was, she would have waved it over her bad leg weeks ago and cured it.

He pouted, but continued to probe. "Then what is it?"

"A cane," she answered.

"A candy cane? Can I eat it?"

Well he's certainly has a wild imagination. "It's not candy, Henry," she responded. "Please don't try to eat it. You'll get splinters."

"What's it then?"

"It's to help me walk."

He wrinkled up his nose in puzzlement. "Why?"

"Because..." Here was the moment she was dreading. "Because I hurt my leg... I need it to help me walk."

His eyes met hers and, what she initially read as the predicted disgust, clearly became sadness. "Hurt bad?" he asked.

"I'm okay," she assured him, though, maybe not as convincingly as she'd hoped.

"Henry help kiss it better," he told her and didn't give her a change to say or do anything. Instead, he squeezed her leg, thankfully the healthy one, and kissed it. "All better."

"Yeah," she sadly said, running a hand tenderly over his blonde locks. "All better."

He gave her leg another hug and then slipped his small hand into hers. "Emmy play with Henry?"

Emily smiled. "Emmy would love to play with Henry."

He grinned, and, hand in hand, he gently led her into the house.

* * *

Emily leaned back against the couch, arms draped over the cushions contently watching Henry play. For the past hour and a half they played with his blocks, building and rebuilding tall leaning towers so he could knock them down with his car. Currently he was romping about the room with her cane between his legs, pretending it was a horse and then a broomstick when it struck his fancy. He was so cute.

The sound of pans rattling caught her attention and Emily looked towards the kitchen where JJ was making dinner. She hadn't planned on staying for dinner, only staying about an hour to make Henry happy, but once again he turned his sad blue eyes to her and she caved. That boy was going to be a ladykiller when he got older.

Seeing that Henry was suitably occupied, Emily decided to see if JJ needed any help. Using the couch as leverage, she slowly climbed to her feet, struggling to keep the grimace of pain off her face in case Henry happened to be looking in her direction. Limping heavily, she made her way to the kitchen and paused in the doorway, not wanting to get in JJ's way.

"It smells delicious," she observed, giving the air an appreciative sniff. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

JJ looked up from the sauce she was stirring and smiled. "You can set the table if you want to."

"I can do that." She pushed off the doorframe where she had been leaning and limped over to the cabinets where she knew the plates and glasses were. "Should I set a place for Will?"

"Please. He should be home soon." She glanced at her friend again and frowned. "Em? Where's your cane?"

"Henry confiscated it. He's probably trying to conjure up a dragon with it as we speak."

JJ laughed. Her son did have a vivid imagination. "Do you want me to go get it for you?"

"Nah. Let him have his fun. I'm doing fine without it and that's okay because I don't intend to be using it forever."

JJ hoped that one day it will be true, but right now Emily needed that cane. She was holding on to the back of the chairs as she worked her way around the table setting out the dinnerware. "Okay."

Henry yelling Daddy at the top of his lungs announced the arrival of Will. Minutes later he popped into the kitchen with his son in his arms. Spotting Emily, he gave her a one-arm hug around the shoulders.

"Hey, Emily. Long time no see," he said in his Louisiana drawl. "It's been a while."

"That it has," she agreed.

Will went over to JJ, wrapping his free arm around her waist and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "What's for dinner, Cherie?"

JJ gently elbowed him in the ribs. "You'll find out after the two of you wash your hands."

"You heard what your Mama said." Will tickled his son. "Lets go wash our hands."

Emily watched Will and a giggling Henry head for the bathroom with a pang of sadness. It wasn't the first time nor would it be the last time that she wished she had someone to come home to besides Sergio. But so far it wasn't in the cards especially with this job. JJ and Will seemed to be the exception and that was a good thing. It did give her hope that the right man could still wander into her life and stick around.

When they all sat down for dinner, they comfortably listened to Henry leading the talk. He was an energetic bundle and was able to carry on a conversation for hours if needed. Will made small talk, but Emily could see that he wasn't completely sure how to act around her. No one did. And she could tell JJ, while genuinely interested in whatever Emily had to say, was also trying to do a wellness check after the physical therapy outburst she witnessed. The blonde wanted to gage how she was doing. Emily played along. It was easier that way and she didn't want JJ reporting to the rest of the team that she was losing it. Despite that, it was a nice dinner and it felt nice to finally spend some time with Henry without the fear of rejection.

When Will whisked Henry off for his bath, Emily thought it was a good time to bail. She tried to call a cab so JJ didn't have to venture back out into the night, but her friend insisted on driving her home. Unlike the drive there, the drive back to Emily's apartment was a quiet affair. Emily gazed out into the darkness, idly fiddling with the cane resting between her knees. JJ occasionally casting glances in her direction.

JJ brought the car to a stop in front of Emily's apartment building. "Do you want me to walk you in?"

"No, I'm good," Emily said with a shake of her head, but made no effort to get out of the car. "JJ, thanks for having me over. I had a really nice time."

"So did Henry and I. He really missed you."

"I missed him too." Emily turned her eyes to the apartment building. "I better get going," she said opening the door.

JJ reached over to touch Emily lightly on the arm before she was all the way out of the car. "Em, let's do this again soon. Don't be a stranger, you hear?"

"I hear and I'll do my best."

"Good. See you soon."

Emily remained standing at the curb, one hand wrapped around the handle of the cane and the other raised in a half-hearted wave until JJ drove off into the night. Slowly she turned and limped up the walkway, wondering if she would be able to keep her promise.

* * *

Henry's unexpectedly positive reaction to her injury prompted Emily to test the waters with Jack. She was nervous about it because he was older and might not be as accepting as the younger boy. So on Saturday she hailed a cab and headed to the park where Jack's soccer games were held. It was a bit rough going for her once she got there, the ground being uneven in many places. But eventually she reached a small stand of bleachers and gratefully sank down on the lowest bench that one of the spectators kindly vacated so she didn't have to climb to one of the higher seats.

Over the years Emily had seen Hotch and Dave run, but she found it quite amusing watching them scampering up and down the sidelines trying to get the kids to spread out instead of all congregating around the ball. She cheered and clapped whenever the rest of the parents did, even though she didn't know which team was winning. It was only afterwards that she learned they didn't keep score.

At some point during the game she must have caught Dave's eye because he winked at her and sent Jack in her direction when it was all over.

"Emily! Did you see my score?" he asked excitedly, running over to gave her a hug.

"I sure did," she said, hugging him back.

He then told her that they were going to get ice cream and asked if she wanted to come along. When she agreed, his face lit up like a sunny afternoon. Jack barely batted an eye when he saw the limp and the cane, only asking once, between licks of his cone, if she was going to get a cool robotic leg to replace the hurt one. Emily agreed that it would be cool, but, much to his disappointment, she was going to stick with her current leg.

At the same time, Jack took it upon himself to be her little helper. At the ice cream parlor he made her sit at one of the tables before scurrying off to the counter to get her order. Emily found it adorable so she didn't put up any resistance. A few minutes later Jack returned, walking carefully so that he wouldn't lose the top of her double scoop of chocolate almond and had half of the paper napkins from the dispenser clutched in his free hand.

It turned out to be a pleasant afternoon for all parties involved. Jack, like Henry, had no trouble with keeping the conversation going. He filled Emily in on everything going on in his life, leaving her to sadly conclude that the kid has a more active social calendar than she did. When it was time to leave, the Hotchner men vetoed her suggestion that she was going to call a cab and personally drove her home. Jack gave her a goodbye hug and asked if she was coming to his next game. She have him the same promise she had given JJ, that she would do her best.

Now home, Emily laid on her couch with Sergio sitting on her chest, bad leg elevated, waiting for the pain pill she took to kick in. She might have had a good day, her leg didn't. Allison, her therapist, had been right after all. Her fear that the boys would be afraid of her, that she was some kind of limping monster was completely unfounded. They didn't care that she now had a bum leg. They just loved her for being their Emily, warts and all. She just wished she could believe that about herself.


	7. Chapter 7

"So, Emily, what's on your mind today?" Allison asked. "You seem to be in one of your pensive moods."

Since her minor breakthrough with her teammates kids, Emily was more forthcoming about what was going on in her head. It didn't mean she was spilling her guts about her troubles. It just meant she was more open to talking about them, which was a vast improvement from their earlier sessions where she rarely opened her mouth.

"Your PT session didn't go well?"

"It went okay." Translation: another frustrating day with no progress.

"If it isn't PT, what is it?"

Emily sighed. "I was just thinking about the car ride here."

"Oh? Did something happen?"

"You can sort of say that."

Allison leaned forward in her chair. "Tell me about it."

* * *

 _Emily half expected a silent, semi-awkward car ride as Hotch took his turn driving her to her physical therapy and counseling sessions. Instead, she found herself in the company of a talkative Hotch. He liked to skip the small talk. Sure, he gave her a simple, "how are you," and such, but he didn't waste the opportunity to get to the harder, more important stuff._

 _Hotch glanced briefly away from the road, trying to make eye contact with Emily, but she was gazing out the passenger window. "So, how is your physical therapy going?"_

 _"I'm sure you've talked to the doctors if not the rest of the team who have escorted me and asked the same thing."_

 _"Doesn't mean I don't want to hear it from you."_

 _"Things are… They're fine. Good," she responded, trying to sound convincing. Things weren't not good, they just weren't great. They were frustrating._

 _"Glad to hear it," he said, playing along. "Keep at it."_

 _She nodded that she would. She was giving it her all and getting very little in return._

 _"Since you're doing so well, I wanted to talk to you about your plans."_

 _"My plans?" she asked, finally turning to him. "For what?" As of then, most of her plans were scheduled appointments and the occasional interaction with the team. That was it. That was her life._

 _"For work."_

 _She glared at him. "What about it?"_

 _"Have you thought about it?"_

 _"Yeah," she answered, "I've thought about it." She thought about it a lot. The real possibility of her leg not getting better and her future as an FBI agent were the two things that weighed the most heavily on her mind._

 _"And what have you come up with?"_

 _"I don't know, Hotch. Ultimately, my career isn't my own choice anymore, is it?" she questioned pointedly. "What have you come up with?"_

 _"There are options Emily."_

 _"Outside of the BAU, you mean."_

 _"That's one option," he conceded. "There are several things, and if you feel ready, we can sit down and discuss them."_

 _"I don't need you to pull strings for me," she sadly spoke. "We both know that, even if I come back as part of the team, I won't really be part of the team."_

 _"You'll always be part of the team."_

 _She sighed. "But I won't be a field agent. I'd be confined to the office."_

 _"You could help Penelope," he agreed._

 _"I'm not sure I want that, Hotch. Would you?"_

 _He didn't answer, fearing his own thoughts would just mirror her own. "Then what do you want?"_

 _"I want my life back," she mumbled, throwing her head back against the headrest and let her gaze drift back out the car window. "I wish I had the answer, but I have a feeling what I want won't be what I can truly get."_

 _"Let's talk about it," he said. "If the team isn't right, then we can try to find something that works for you. Maybe a consultant job or something with white collar that would give limited field access."_

 _"Maybe," she said exasperatedly._

 _It was his turn to sigh. "I wish things could be just as they were, but you're still recovering. Even if your leg is perfectly fine again, it will take time and doing the work we do, it just doesn't accommodate that. Behind the scenes, working on the actual profiling or helping with Penelope is the best I can offer right now. I'm sorry, Emily."_

 _Solemnly, she just responded, "Yeah." And, thankfully, they arrived at their destination and she was ready to begin another pointless session._

* * *

"What do you want to do, Emily?" Allison asked when Emily finally fell silent.

"I don't know." The same frustration that she felt during her talk with Hotch resurfaced in her voice.

"You must have some inkling."

Emily huffed. "All I know for certain is that I don't want to fly a damn desk for the rest of my career."

"So you want to remain a field agent."

"I guess," she said with a shrug. "But that's only going to happen if I pass the physical and both of us know the odds of that happening." To make her point, Emily rubbed her thigh that was still aching from the PT session.

Allison nodded. From previous sessions she knew that Emily's recovery from her injury has stalled, leaving her at wits end. She had set a goal and was frustrated that it stayed just beyond her reach.

"Then maybe it's time to try something different."

"Like what? All I know is law enforcement. I was recruited right out of college." She didn't mention that it had been the CIA and not the FBI, who did the recruiting. "I fought like hell to land my dream job with the BAU. Being a FBI agent and a profiler is who I am."

"Being a FBI agent and profiler are what you do. There's much more to you, Emily, than that."

"I'm not sure about that."

"I think you're selling yourself short."

Emily shrugged. "If I am, it won't be the first time nor will it be the last."

"Alright," Allison conceded, sensing they weren't going to get any further with this particular line of discussion. For now she would shelve it and return to it at a later date. "Lets go with the possibility that you're unable to return as a full time field agent. Like your Unit Chief said, there are other opportunities out there for you and not just with the FBI. With your particular skill set, other law enforcement agencies would snatch you up in a heartbeat."

"I had the opportunity to move on once, but I didn't take advantage of it," Emily blurted out.

"When was this?"

"About a year ago…" she trailed off.

Allison sensed that there was more that Emily wanted to say more so she remained silent, giving her patient all the time and space she needed to sort out her thoughts so she could give them a voice.

"But before that I was forced to spend some time away from the team. I was in witness protection because a man I put in prison escaped and wanted revenge."

"For how long?"

Emily slowly rolled the cane between her hands. "Seven months…though it felt like years. I felt so lost and alone. I thought I was never going to see the team and I mourned like they were dead. Sounds sort of silly now."

"Not at all. Mourning can apply to the living and to the dead. You were missing their companionship, friendship and the love they felt for you. Entering witness protection means you have to cut all ties to your life. Technically your friends were dead to you. I'm sure it felt that way to them too."

No, Emily silently corrected. Except for Hotch and JJ, the rest of the team actually thought Doyle had killed me. She had covered this ground during her mandatory therapy with Dr. Merrill and had no desire to revisit it.

"Probably," Emily hedged.

"And since you're here, it's safe to say the man was caught?"

 _Long dead and good riddance._ "Yeah and I jumped at the chance to rejoin the team. But not long after I started to get this feeling."

"Describe the feeling."

"I don't know." Emily groped for the right words. "Um…I was like I was trying to grab on to my old life by pretending nothing happened. I tried to ignore it. I thought buying a house and putting down roots would fix the feeling. Neither worked."

"Then this opportunity arose?"

"Yes. An old boss wanted me to run Interpol's London Gateway office. I would have been the boss and have my own team."

Allison sat back in her chair impressed. "That sounded liked a wonderful job. Why did you turn it down?"

Emily sighed and dropped her eyes to the floor. "Because I didn't want to disappoint my friends. They finally get me back and then I run away nine months later to London. They would have thought that I was abandoning them, that I didn't like them. But I do," she protested. "I love them. They're the only family I have so I stayed, bought the house and put down roots."

"And the feeling, is it still there?"

A nod. "Stronger than ever."

Allison took a moment to collect her thoughts. "It sounds like your gut is trying to tell you it's time to take care of yourself first," she said, treading carefully, having a good idea how Emily would react. She wasn't disappointed.

"I take care of myself," Emily said, defensive.

"But in the past, haven't you put the welfare of others before yours? Did you just tell me you wanted to make your friends happy even at the expense of your own happiness?"

Emily glowered at her. Yes, she did say that. She also didn't like having her words tossed back in her face, even though that wasn't what Allison did. The therapist was only repeating what she heard. "So what do you suggest I do?"

"Put your welfare first for a change?"

"And how would I do that? Quit the FBI and travel the world forever?" It came out more snidely than she intended, but it was too late to take it back.

"I wouldn't go to that extreme, but it's close to what I meant. You could take a leave of absence and go see what opportunities may be waiting for you outside the confines of Washington DC and the Justice Department. Take the time to focus on yourself, come to terms with what happened to you and, most importantly, rediscover who Emily Prentiss is. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised by what you uncovered."

What Allison said did sound appealing, Emily admitted to herself as her temper cooled. But she wasn't sure if it was right for her and if she could even pull it off. She was incredibly messed up, even to the point of being permanently broken.

"I don't know," she said dubiously.

Allison smiled patiently. "Emily, you don't have to make the decision right this second. All I'm asking is for you to think about it. It's just another option to consider in addition to the ones you and Hotch discussed. I'll support any decision you make and so will your friends."

"I'll try."

* * *

Emily kept her promise. For the next week she carefully considered each available option. She did further research on those she could. On paper she listed all the pros and cons of each one and then compared them. In the end she was unable to narrow down the list. They all remained viable option.

She sat back in her chair with a frustrated sigh; pinching the bridge of her nose in an attempt to stave off the headache she could feel building behind her eyes. It was even making her leg ache more than usual. She was no near closer to a decision than she was a week ago. She was running out of time. Her medical leave would be over in a month and she would have to return to work or go on permanent disability since she was injured in the line of duty. She could wait a couple more days and hash it out with Allison at their next session, but her gut told her she had the make the decision on her own.

With another sigh, Emily decided to call it an early night and hit the sack. She downed two Advils for her headache and leg, crawled beneath the thick warm comforter and closed her eyes, waiting for the pills to kick in. Sergio joined her a few minutes later, curling up in the bend of her knees. Around midnight she bolted awake from her regular nightmare, dumping the cat off to one side from where he had been sprawled across her chest. Heart pounding, breath coming out in gasps, Emily had an instance of clear clarity and she knew what she had to do.

* * *

Hotch shed his raincoat as he entered the BAU. As was his habit he was the first one to arrive and the last to leave. He enjoyed the quiet. It allowed him to get caught up on the paperwork that was always neglected when they were off on a case without the constant interruption of people coming and going out of his office all day. Several times he considered installing a revolving door to make access easier, but the budget wouldn't allow for such an extravagance.

As he did every day, Hotch paused next to Emily's desk. It remained exactly like she left it the day they flew to Mississippi for the case that dramatically changed their lives, especially hers. The only things missing were the case files that she kept stacked haphazardly on one corner. Those he had distributed among the team. He missed hearing her laughter when Derek told a bad joke, the mischievous glint in her eyes when teasing Reid and her bright smile she bestowed on everyone. Emily's presence was keenly missed by all. The team wasn't the same without her.

He sighed as he continued on to his office, hoping that some time in the near future she'll return to work in whatever capacity her injured leg would allow. What Hotch wasn't expecting as he crossed the threshold that his wish would come true so quickly. Emily was sitting on the couch, almost in the same position he had come across her seven years when they had returned late after wrapping up the Mill Creek killer case in Missouri.

"Please tell me you haven't been sitting there for four days," he said, only this time with a smile and not with a frown of impatience.

It took Emily a minute to catch on and returned the smile. "I heard you were flying back tonight."

It was nice that they could now look back at their first rough meeting with fondness. They have grown to be good friends over the passing years.

"So what brings you here so early this rainy morning?" he asked, hanging up his coat and setting his briefcase on his desk. Even though Hotch kept his tone light, he sensed Emily had something to say that he wasn't going to like.

Emily blew out a breath. "I wanted to talk to you before the team gets in. Like you said, I don't want to be profiled through your office windows," she said, referring to the time he decided to review her psych evaluation with her on the jet.

That was one of her tells and he knew her news was bad. Light heartedness gone, Hotch settled into the armchair arranged by the couch. "What's on your mind, Emily?"

"I've been hearing that a lot lately," she replied, taking one last stab at humor before sighing again and brushing back a stray lock of hair from her face. "I've been thinking a lot about what we discussed that day you drove me to my therapy sessions."

"What did you come up with?" he asked, unconsciously holding his breath as he prepared for the worse.

Emily opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She knew coming in that it was going to be hard to say what she needed to say, but she wasn't expecting to be this hard. It should be relatively easy. It took some time for her and Hotch to develop a mutual respect for each other that allowed them to become good friends. That relationship also made it easier to talk about difficult things even if she got defensive about it. But seeing him gazing at her expectedly, Emily realized it was her fear of letting team down that was holding her back.

She closed her mouth, ran her tongue over lips suddenly dry and tried again. "Hotch, I want to take a leave of absence." As soon as the words passed her lips, they became real and she felt the heavy weight on her shoulders lift.

Hotch blinked. It wasn't as bad as he thought, but he was still surprised by her request. From that day his gut was telling him that Emily wasn't going to take him up on his offer to discuss other options and tender her resignation. She would rather quit than chain herself to a desk for the rest of her career.

"For how long?" he asked, settling back in his chair.

"I'm not sure. What do you think?"

"Lets go with six months for now and if you feel you need more time I can extend it to a year or longer. We'll just play it by ear."

"That sounds good to me."

"May I ask why you want to take a leave of absence?"

Emily's eyes drifted over to the office window and watched the rivulets of rain run down the glass. The gloomy weather outside reflected her mood inside. "I'm lost, Hotch. There is so much going on in my head that it's all getting tangled together. I'm haunted by those children deaths. I'm depressed that I'm going to be crippled for the rest of my life. I can't get past the anger I feel towards Morgan and I don't know if I'm able or even want to return to the FBI if I can't do what I used to love."

Hotch nodded in understanding. "You do have a lot going on."

"I'm a big fucking mess," she said with a rueful laugh.

"Talking to your therapist isn't working?"

"Dr. Fielding has been a big help." She shook her head slightly, amazed that she just admitted that therapy was actually beneficial. "I need time to figure out who I am and what I want to be before I can move forward."

"What will you do?" Hotch secretly hoped Emily wasn't planning on barricading herself in her apartment and cutting off all contact with the outside world. She wouldn't get her answers that way. The only thing that would happen was her sinking into a deeper depression than the one she was already in.

"I thought I might travel," she revealed.

His eyebrows shot up. Emily was full of surprises this morning. At least traveling was better than becoming a recluse. "Europe?"

"Been there, done that," Emily said with a dismissive wave of a hand. "I thought here. We've been to so many places over the years hunting serial killers, but we never really took the time to see what they have to offer. We would fly in, do our thing and fly out. I want to see what's out there."

"I think it's a great idea." It's about time she put herself first, he thought. But it's a shame it took the deaths of three children and a bullet to the leg to push her to this point.

"I hope so."

"When do you want your leave to take effect?"

"Today if it's possible."

"So soon?" He really thought they would have a couple of days to get used to the idea that she was leaving and give her a proper send off. Apparently it wasn't meant to be.

"If I don't go now, I'm afraid I'll lose my nerve," she said with a half smile. "I'm not a fan of change."

"Most people aren't," Hotch pointed out. "Do you want me to tell the team for you?"

Emily looked out the open office door, noting that her friends have started to wander in. A few were congregated in the break room area waiting for the coffee maker to finish brewing its first pot. The machine seemed like it had a mind of its own and took its grand own time, annoying the hell out of the caffeine-depraved agents.

"No, I'll do it. They deserve to hear it from me. In the past I've been accused of running away when things got tough and it's true. I do feel like I'm running away from my problems, but I also know this is something I have to do to heal. I don't want them to think I'm callous enough to abandon them without a word."

"You're not abandoning us, Emily. You're only doing what you think is best for you. That's the most important thing. We have your back."

"I know you do and I appreciate it."

Hotch nodded and stood up. "Do you want me to gather team here or in the round table room?"

Emily followed suit, leaning heavily on the cane once she was on her feet. "The round table room would be fine. It's less formal than your office and I'm more comfortable there."

"No problem. Give me a few minutes." Hotch headed for the door, stopped and then came back to her. "I'm going to miss you, Emily. I wish you the best of luck and hope you find what you're looking for."

He started to hold out his hand and give her a goodbye shake like he had when JJ was transferred unwillingly to the Pentagon, but decided that it wasn't enough. Instead, he pulled her into a hug.

Emily was surprised by his display of affection. Hotch always struck her as a hands off kind of guy, definitely a non-hugger except with his son, so it took her a minute for her to return the gesture.

"I'll miss you too, Hotch, especially your scowl."

"I don't scowl. I frown thoughtfully."

"You keep thinking that," she said with a chuckle as they separated. "I'll be along shortly."

He nodded again, knowing she was going to need some time to ready herself for the reactions she was going to get when she delivered her bad news. Hotch gave her arm an encouraging squeeze as he headed out on his sad duty.

Emily moved over to the windows overlooking the bullpen, watching through the blinds as Hotch made his way to the break area where the team was still gathered. All conversation ceased as he neared, everyone sensing something serious was going down. They huddled around Hotch to hear what he had to say. He must have kept it short and sweet because within seconds several were looking in her direction with puzzlement in their eyes before they headed up the short flight of stairs to the round table room. Emily let out a heavy sigh. It had been so hard to tell Hotch that she was leaving. Now she has to do it all over again five fold.

* * *

The group sat anxiously around the table waiting for Emily to enter. Each was wondering what she had to say to them. This was the first time she has set foot in the BAU since her shooting. Was something wrong? Was it a health thing? Did they need to be worried? They all looked to each other for answers, but the only one that seemed to know anything was Hotch, and he wasn't sharing, so they just sat there for however long with a worried impatience. Soon they heard her limping steps and the accompanying tap of the cane on the catwalk. All eyes turned to the open door.

"Hi everyone," Emily said in greeting, noting that Hotch was the only one still standing. He stood off to one side with his arms crossed.

Dave, the gentleman that he was, hopped to his feet and pulled out the one chair they had intentionally left empty for her. Emily politely declined, preferring to say what she had to say standing. Somehow it felt right.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Reid blurted out before she could say another word.

Four pairs of eyes turned to stare at the young genius in shock. The fifth set was gazing down at the floor. Once the team recovered from the bluntness of his question, they turned as one back to Emily to hear her answer.

The look on Reid's face made Emily to want to change her mind and stay. She wanted to hold him until the sadness, dejection and abandonment left his eyes to be replaced with happiness. It was the same tone of voice and expression he wore when they had learned that JJ's transfer to the Pentagon was official. But she had to resist and stay on the course she has chosen for herself.

Emily chose her words carefully as she smiled sadly. "Yes, Spence, I am leaving, but not in the way you think. I'm taking a six month leave of absence," she said and went on to cite the same reasons she had given Hotch.

Everyone hung on her every word trying to ignore their own feelings to see her side of things, but it still hurt them all the same to hear she was leaving, even if temporarily. JJ, Dave and Hotch understood it. Emily was a wanderer. Her whole life was spent picking up and moving and now that she found a more permanent place in DC, her life as she knew it was changed. So, she needed an escape to figure things out. That didn't mean they weren't going to miss her though. Still, they would support her.

Penelope was a little less understanding, not wanting her good friend to be away for so long all alone. Emily quickly assured her that there would be contact. She wasn't disappearing, just taking an extended vacation. That was enough to calm the analyst down; that and promises of frequent updates. Reid logically understood everything she said, but his heart still ached. They had become close and it felt like he was losing her…again. It wasn't that he was afraid she wouldn't come back, just that she would come back different. He wasn't very good with change.

Perhaps the most effected by the news was Derek. He and Emily still weren't in the best of places, and he couldn't help but feel like it was his fault. He had managed to worm his way into the rotation for driving Emily to her appointments, but the rides were awkward affairs. She pointedly ignored him while he made lame attempts at small talk. He felt she was running away from him. From all of them really. That hurt, and he knew there was nothing he could say, even if she did listen to him, that would make her stay. He just wished that they could at least have a decent conversation before she left. He wanted her to do whatever she had to in order to get better, but he wished she'd lean on all of them more, especially himself.

"When are you planning on leaving?" Dave asked when she was done.

"Probably tomorrow morning," Emily said. "I still have a few things to wrap up."

"That doesn't give us much time," Penelope mused.

"For what?"

"For your going away party, silly."

Emily stepped forward, holding up a hand. "Please don't, Pen. I don't think I can handle that. This has been hard enough."

"Oh…okay," Penelope conceded, unable to keep the disappointment off her face and out of her voice.

Emily hated bursting her friend's bubble, but it was something she had to do. Penelope was incapable of throwing a small party. It would turn into a huge event and make leaving even harder than it already was. But she had something up her sleeve that she was positive would mollify the analyst.

"But there is something you can do for me."

Penelope brightened at that. "Name it."

"Would you be able to watch Sergio again while I'm gone? I would take him with me, but you know how he gets carsick just looking at one?"

"Of course I'll take care of our little Boo. We get along fabulously."

"Thank you," Emily said in gratitude, knowing Sergio was in good hands.

She was going to miss him. She was going to miss his freight train of a purr and falling asleep with him tucked into the bend of her knees, but she couldn't drag him all over the country. Most cats don't make good traveling companions.

They talked a little longer, asking Emily about the places she planned on visiting. She ended up confessing that she really hadn't given it much thought. Just hop into the car, get on a road and see where it took her. Basically she was going to wing it. There was a whole country out there to explore and she was looking forward to it.

Unfortunately all good things must come to an end and Hotch was the one who made it happen. Loudly clearing his throat, he sadly informed them as much as they wanted this moment to continue forever, it couldn't and they had work to do. Emily readily agreed with his announcement, relieved that he was the one to bring it up first because she had no clue how to extricate herself from her friend's good intentions. With heavy hearts the team rose and, one by one, they gave her goodbye hugs and well wishes before filing out. Eventually Emily and Derek were the only ones left in the room. They stared at each other over the table.

"Morgan," she finally ventured.

"Emily," he replied with an unsure smile.

They fell silent again, standing still as statues. Then she gave a sharp nod. "Have a good life."

Saying all she wanted to say, Emily turned on her heels and exited the round table room. With her back straight, head held high and more than a few regrets, Emily limped out of the BAU…possibly for the last time.


	8. Chapter 8

"How are you feeling about leaving?" Dr. Allison Fielding asked.

Attending her final counseling session was one of the few things Emily had to take care of before heading off on what she was starting to think of as her grand adventure. "I feel good about it. I think this is what I need."

"You told all your friends?"

Emily nodded.

"How did they react?"

"Better than expected. They seemed to understand. Penelope made me promise to give her updates and call." A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"Will you?"

"I'll do my best," Emily answered honestly. She certainly wasn't cutting herself off from them completely, but she did want to explore a little without the added pressure of keeping them apprised of every move she made.

"Tell me how everyone else reacted."

"Spencer was a little upset. He doesn't do well with change, especially not when situations are out of his control. I think he's worried for me. He gets that I need to do this, but doesn't really want me to. No one really wanted me to leave, and, I think on some level they may think I'm trying to run away from my problems."

"Which you're not," Allison said in a statement that was more question than anything.

"No… This is about understanding myself and what's out there for me. My next step," Emily affirmed.

"Good." The doctor inhaled deeply, not quite a sigh, but knowing she was about to enter territory that always made Emily a little edgy. "I can't help but notice that you hadn't mentioned Derek at all."

"So?" Wariness crept into her voice.

"So, did you talk with him too?"

"Yes. I spoke to everyone on the team. First I talked privately with Hotch, and then we all sat together and had a meeting. Just like we discussed. I wouldn't just leave without telling them."

"But you didn't speak directly to Derek?"

"No, I spoke to everyone together. Hotch is the only one I spoke to directly, but that was a necessity. He's my boss."

"There are still things unresolved between you and Derek."

Emily was silent.

"Would you agree with that?"

A shrug. "I guess."

"There's still a lot of blame and guilt between the two of you. That's not going to go away just because you do."

"I know."

"I don't believe that you're running away from your problems, Emily," she started.

"Good. Because I'm not."

"But…"

"No buts."

"But… there are issues in your relationship with Derek that, if left unaddressed, may only worsen with your prolonged absence."

"So what are you saying? That I should just let it go?" Now she was defensive.

Allison shook her head. "No. I'm never going to tell you what to feel. You know by now that that's not how this works. I'm simply suggesting that something needs to be done."

"I can't forget about it."

"Again, I'm not asking you too."

"You think I should talk to him." _Of course she did_ , Emily thought.

"Do you think you should talk with him?"

"I know that I don't want to."

Dr. Fielding narrowed her eyes at Emily. Her response was to roll her own eyes and cross her arms over her chest like an insolent child.

"Let me ask you this. If you leave without having a private talk with Derek, not necessarily working things out, but just expressing feelings, how do you think things will be when you return?"

"I don't know."

"You do. There's no wrong answer. It's your opinion."

"Worse, I suppose," Emily said after giving it a little thought. "Not that I know how it could be much worse than it is."

"And if you do talk with him, what's are your best and worst case scenarios for outcomes?"

"Best, we magically work through things. Worst, our friendship is in complete disrepair."

"It seems to me, that the choice is obvious then. At least, to me. What do you think?"

Exasperated and with a sigh, Emily replied, "I guess I need to talk with him." Not that she really wanted to, but under the projected guilt and blame that she put on him, Emily knew that she didn't want Derek out of her life. She didn't want to lose him forever.

Allison drove home her point." I think you do. I believe it will be good for the both of you. It may not fix everything, but it will at least leave the door open to mend the relationship."

From there they moved on to other topics before Dr. Fielding started to wrap up the session by saying, "I wouldn't be surprised if you've heard this before, but even with the progress you've made over the past months, you're still going to have bad days."

"Yeah, I have," Emily agreed, remembering Hotch saying something similar on the jet over a year ago. She only took him up on his offer once and that had been directly after the Piano Man case.

"If you're having one and feel the need to talk, please call me day or night." She held out one of her business cards. "Just because you won't be here physically doesn't mean we can't continue our sessions."

Emily took the proffered card and studied it, noting it listed Allison's work, home and cell numbers along with her email address. She held it up, arching an eyebrow. "Do you give all your patients one of these?"

Allison smiled. "Only to those I really like."

"I guess I should be flattered," Emily said with a chuckle.

"Well, then prepare yourself, because I have a little something else for you."

"Like what?"

Allison handed Emily a small composition book.

"A notebook?" Emily asked in confusion.

"A journal," Allison corrected.

"Is this like an assignment?" Her confusion deepened.

"It's a suggestion, Emily."

"For what exactly?"

"For a lot of your trip, you're going to be alone. Maybe not physically, but in new places with new faces you don't know. Along the way, you may run into things that trigger emotion or make you think about something. Perhaps, during those experiences, you can record your thoughts or just jot down a little about your experience in general."

"Why?"

Allison pointed at the composition book. "For growth, Emily. Journaling is something I recommend to many of my patients. Writing about things that happen as they happen or soon after allow you to be better in touch with what your feeling then. Later, you can go back and read through your thoughts and understand how the moment itself affected your judgment of the situation. What you feel later may not be the same."

"You think I'm going to need it?"

"I think it's a tool that you may or may not find use for. You don't know what you may encounter, and, stupid as it may seem now, you might enjoy writing about it. It's your own recollection of your time and something you can hold onto to remember it with."

"So it's supposed to be fun?"

" Could be. You won't know unless you try it. And if you find yourself in a tough situation like maybe you need to make a decision or understand what you're feeling, consider writing in the journal using the third person. Look at the situation from a different eye. It will give you perspective."

"Yes," Emily played with her voice. "Emily might try."

"That's all I'm asking."

Emily pushed herself to her feet, shifting the cane to her left hand so she would hold out her right. "Thanks, Allison, for all your help. I'm sure I wasn't the easiest of patients."

Dr. Fielding shook hands with her. "I've had worse."

"Really?"

"No," she said with a chuckle. "I knew you were going to be a challenge the first time I met you."

"I'm glad I didn't disappoint you."

"Far from it. Now don't forget to call if you're having a bad day or just feel the need to talk. I would like to hear how things are going."

Emily smiled. "I will do my best."

* * *

Derek was still kicking himself hours later for not giving Emily a proper send off. He let the tension between them to keep him rooted to the spot when he should have been giving her a bone crushing hug and telling her how much he was going to miss her. Now it was too late. Emily would be leaving first thing in the morning or she might already have left if she had taken care of everything she needed to.

He had done everything within his powers, short of handcuffing her to a chair, to mend the riff between them. He went to the rehabilitation center and her apartment, he called, he sent texts and emails and even got into the rotation to drive her to her appointments when she became an outpatient. Emily rebuffed each and every attempt. The car rides turned out to be the worse. She only went along with it because she had to get to her appointment, but she ignored him for the entire drive by staring out the passenger window.

Derek downed the rest of his beer, tossed the empty bottle in the recyclables bin and went to the fridge to get a fresh one. He twisted off the cap and was about to raise it to his lips when his phone rang.

"Morgan," he answered gruffly, not bothering to check the screen, figuring it was work. It wasn't.

"Signers Island. 8 o'clock," Emily said and hung up.

He stared at the phone in his hand. Emily wanted to meet with him. She must have something she needed to get off her chest. Something important that it couldn't be said over the phone, but face to face. He couldn't care less about the subject of the meeting. The only thing that mattered to him was her sudden willingness to talk to him. He now has a second chance to give his friend and partner the proper goodbye she deserved from him.

Signers Island didn't ring a bell so he googled it. Derek learned it was located in the Constitution Gardens, not too far from the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. A quick glance at his watch told him if he left now, he should make it there with a few minutes to spare. Abandoning the untouched beer on the counter, he snatched up the keys and hurried out to his truck. Emily has figuratively offered him an olive branch and he wasn't about to offend the gesture by standing her up or being tardy.

* * *

Trotting across the wooden bridge, Derek was relieved to see that Emily was already there. On the drive over he worried that she would leave if he weren't there promptly at eight. Emily stood at the water's edge gazing out over Constitution Lake at the Washington Monument off in the distance to her left. Arranged behind her in a semi-circle were 56 stone blocks dedicated to the signers of the Declaration of Independence. Each bore a facsimile of the actual signature, the signer's name, hometown, and occupation and grouped together by state.

Not wanting to impede her view, Derek came to a stop on her right. Tucking his hands in the pockets of his jacket, he took in the sights. "This is beautiful and secluded spot. I didn't know it was here."

Emily kept her eyes glued on the Washington Monument. The sun hadn't set yet, but it was already bathed in the lights from its surrounding floodlights. "It's one of the park services hidden gems."

"It is. I'll have to check it out in the daytime." He watched several ducks glide by quacking softly before speaking again. "Emily, I'm glad you called."

She spoke in a voice that was cool and aloof, lacking the warmth felt for a friend. "It was strongly suggested that I talk to you before I left so that I wouldn't regret it later."

 _Probably her shrink,_ he surmised. _Only a doctor could convince her to do something she obviously didn't want to._ "Sounds like good advice."

Emily grunted in response, still not looking at him.

Derek had a good idea that Emily wanted to talk about what happened that horrible day months ago. It was a talk long overdue and he could have launched into his side of the story, but he held his tongue. Emily had called this meeting, not him, so it was her right to dictate the direction of it. So he would give her the opening to get the ball rolling.

"What would you like to talk about?"

"Us and what went down," she answered.

Sadly, Derek responded, "Is there even an us right now?"

This time Emily looked at him and sighed. "I don't know what we are right now. I'm feeling things and I know you have your own feelings about it, but there has always been an us. We are…were partners."

"We used to be friends too. Family."

There was a silent question being asked. Will we ever be that again?

"Yeah," Emily muttered. "Sometimes I feel guilty for feeling the way I do about you and the situation."

The admission gave Derek hope, allowed him to stand a little straighter.

"And sometimes, sometimes I just want to scream at you."

Less hope.

"It's all so confusing," she said with a shake of her head and looked away.

"For me too," Derek responded. "Don't you think I'm as messed up about all this as you are?"

Emily's head snapped around, staring at him through narrowed eyes. "Are you?" she asked sharply.

Instinctively he took a step back at the intensity of her words. "Of course! How can you even think I'm not?" He shook his head in an attempt to calm his emotions. They were here to talk, not to get into a shouting match. "And then I reach for the phone to talk to my partner, my friend, and I remember that she hates me. I can't call."

It was silent for a moment before Emily quietly said, "I don't hate you."

Derek was surprised and once again hopeful.

"I don't know exactly what I feel, but I don't hate you."

He would take it. That was a step hopefully in healing their relationship.

"There are a lot of feelings I'm going to have to work through while I'm away," she continued. "But there is one thing I know for certain. I can no longer trust you because you don't trust me."

"That's not true. I trust you," he countered, flashing back to the heated talk with Dave where he said the same thing.

"That's what you would like to believe, but your actions prove otherwise. If you truly did, you wouldn't have burst into the basement trying to save the day."

"I was protecting you."

"So the need of the one outweighs the needs of the many?"

"No!" he declared. "He was going to kill you, Emily." Now he finally has a chance to tell his side of the story. "I heard it in his voice. He knew he wasn't going to survive this so he was going to go out in a blaze of glory by taking you with him."

Emily shook her head vehemently, feeling the anger she felt towards him taking over. "If he wanted to kill me, he would've gunned me down the second I stepped through the door. He wanted to negotiate his way out. He only shot me to put himself in a position of power."

"You shouldn't have been in there in the first place," he muttered.

"Because I'm a woman and needed protecting, which I don't need by the way."

Derek scowled. "That's not the reason. It was against regulations."

"Sometimes regulations have to be tossed out the window when it comes to saving the lives of hostages. You weren't in the room, Morgan. You were only hearing a small part of the puzzle. I was there. I heard his words; I saw his body language as he talked. He was on the verge of surrendering when you kicked down the door."

"It didn't look like that to me."

"Of course not," she said snidely. "You were too busy trying to be the hero to see what was happening in front of your nose."

"I was saving your ass."

She couldn't contain her anger any longer. "You screwed up, Morgan!" Emily shouted. "Your stupid stunt got those innocent kids killed!"

"Hey! Don't you dare dump all the blame on me," Derek snapped back.

"Not all of it, but your actions contributed to their deaths."

Emily's knuckled were white from the strangle hold she had on the cane. It was taking all of her willpower to keep herself from bludgeoning him with it. That was how pissed off she was with him at this moment.

"The rest of the blame is mine and mine alone. If I had been better at my job, he would have surrendered before you entered and his children would still be alive."

Derek's anger evaporated when he saw the guilt in her eyes and the way she hugged herself. If finally sunk in that Emily was really angry with herself and not with him. He was the convenient target because he was there and she didn't know how to deal with it. He should have realized it months ago, but his stubborn pride wouldn't let him see it. He had been too busy trying to prove to everyone that he was in the right.

"Emily, it's not your fault," he said softly, wanting to reach out and comfort her, but knew the gesture would not be welcomed. "It's the UnSub's fault. He's the one who chose to pull the trigger, not you."

Emily turned away. "Yes, it is," she sniffed, discretely wiping away a stray tear. "Right now I can't forgive you. Maybe with time, I'll be able to or come to some understanding, but it's probably best you don't get your hopes up. Once the trust I have in someone is broken, it can't be fixed."

 _You mean you're not ready to forgive yourself,_ he thought.

"I understand. But before you go, can I at least get a goodbye hug?"

At first, Emily didn't want to. She just assumed it would be awkward and forced. She wasn't completely wrong. After reluctantly giving Derek the okay, he leaned in for the hug and Emily didn't know what to do. It was like they had both forgotten how to hug each other. Neither knew the right arm placement or how hard to squeeze. The tension between them had them over thinking it and it didn't feel right, but then they just stopped thinking. Their arms were wrapped around each other and the familiarity of the touch was right. It made their rift temporarily cease and they felt like old friends again.

But once the hug was over, things didn't feel much different than before. There was a little more hope for their friendship and a little less animosity now that they had a better understanding of each others' guilt. That was all that changed. A lot was still unresolved and would remain that way while they went their separate ways.

"You take care of yourself, Emily. I'm going to miss you," Derek said, shoving his hands back into the pockets of his jacket.

"I'm going to miss what we once had," she wistfully said, adjusting her grip on her cane before turning and limping away.

"If any time during your journey you need something done, don't hesitate to call," he said to her departing back, fully knowing she wouldn't take him up on his offer. She would go to the rest of the team first before contacting him.

Much to Derek's surprise, Emily stopped and slowly turned back to him. "There is one thing you can do for me."

"Name it."

"I asked Penelope not to keep track of my whereabouts through my phone and credit cards, but you and I both know she will. She may not listen to me, but she will listen to you."

"Consider it done," he promised.

With a curt not of thanks, Emily limped over the wooden bridge and out of his life…possible forever.

* * *

Emily decided not to wait until morning to leave. Everything was already packed so all she had to do was to toss the bags in the trunk of the car. Since she had no clue how long she was going to be gone, she made sure she had enough clothes, footwear and outerwear for each season. There was a separate bag for each season and one that contained her intimate apparel and toiletries. In a backpack were her electronics, books and anything else for her enjoyment. Emily was pretty sure she packed everything she needed, but if she did forget something, she could pick it up along the way. It wasn't like she wasn't going to encounter one store on her travels.

Slamming the trunk shut, Emily mentally reviewed her checklist. Utilities. Check. Mail stopped. Check. Bills to be paid by her accountant. Check. Long tearful goodbye with Sergio before dropping him off with the neighbor where Penelope will pick him up. Check. She considered renting out the rowhouse, but decided she didn't like the idea of someone living in her house and using her things. Instead, she arranged for a cleaning company to come in monthly and give the place a good once over. Satisfied that everything was taken care of, Emily turned her back on the place she called home for the past year and climbed into her car.

As she drove away, Emily felt a little guilty for leaving earlier than what she had told the team, but she was afraid that they would show up, one by one, at all hours of the night and early morning doing their best to reconsider her decision and stay. And given her current mental state, she would have eventually caved and probably would have sunk deeper into her depression. Yes, with Allison's not so subtle nudging, she finally admitted to herself that she was depressed. She filled the prescriptions, but had yet to take a single pill because she still believed the depression wasn't as bad as everyone kept saying it was.

This was the best way to regain her mental stability, she told herself. She had to do it her own way, at her own pace and alone. Emily wasn't the first person to consider, after a traumatic event, to drop out of their life and start a new one somewhere else. People intentionally went missing every year. At least she wasn't missing; everyone knew she was leaving to start her journey of self-discovery and do her best to stay in contact. She needed to stop being the tough and confident FBI agent and be the vulnerable and insecure woman she has been hiding for years. It was time to stop trying to save other people and focus on saving Emily Prentiss.


	9. Chapter 9

Emily sat at the bar, slowly turning the beer bottle, watching the light refract through the amber liquid. She had been driving nonstop for the last couple of days, only stopping long enough for gas or to take a quick nap. She spent the past month wandering the back roads of New York, Pennsylvania and Ohio soaking in the sights. Sometimes she stayed in a motel, other times she just drove until she was tired and then pulled over somewhere deserted to sleep in the car. When Emily couldn't find what she was looking for which was a tall order since she really had no clue what she was looking for, she decided to head south. Maybe she would have more luck down there. When she had driven into Cedartown, Georgia, she liked the look of town and decided to stop to recharge her batteries. She wasn't hungry but thirsty so she pulled into the first tavern she saw. She had ordered the beer over an hour ago and she still hadn't taken the first sip.

"Are you planning on drinking that or are you going to admire it all night?" a voice with a strong southern twang inquired.

She looked up to find a well-endowed woman in her late fifties with bleached blonde hair piled haphazardly on top of her head, standing on the other side of the bar. "Guess I don't really want it," Emily said with an embarrassed chuckle. "Could I have a Coke instead?"

"Sure," the blonde bartender said, stepping over to the taps.

"Can I have it?" the man on the barstool next to her piped up, eyeing the still full beer bottle.

"Knock yourself out," Emily said with a smile, sliding the bottle over.

"Thanks," he grinned, snatching it up and down half of the contents in one gulp.

"You just made a friend for life," the bartender commented as she set the drink in front of Emily.

"Probably," she agreed, picking up the glass and talking a sip. That hit the spot. Emily set the drink down and began to turn it just as she had done with the beer, listening to the ice clink off the sides.

The bartender studied the pensive woman sitting at her bar. She was in her early forties with shoulder length, nearly black hair that was parted to one side. She was very pretty. But it what caught her attention was the brunette's eyes. They were a rich, dark brown that were filled with sadness. This woman was obviously a lost soul and she always had a soft spot for people who seemed in need of help.

She took an instant liking to this sad woman. "Sally Rogers," she said, holding out her hand. "But everyone calls me Big Sally."

Emily stared at the proffered hand then reached up to take it. "Emily Prentiss," she said in return. As quickly as possible she broke the handshake and wrapped both hands around her drink.

Big Sally picked up a rag and started to wipe down the bar. "So where are you from? I can tell from your accent that you're not from around here."

Emily smiled. "Up north," she said vaguely.

"Honey, up north covers a lot of territory," Big Sally pointed out, arching an eyebrow in amusement.

"Right," Emily said with a nod. "Washington D.C."

"Ah…the nation's capital," she said as she continued to clean. Just visiting or passing through?"

Emily looked down at her drink, watching a bead of condensation trickle down the side of the glass. She shrugged. "I don't know. Guess it hinges on if I find something interesting to keep me here."

Big Sally paused in her wiping. "When you say 'something interesting', are you referring to, perhaps, a job?"

Emily gave the bartender an appraising look. One of the reasons she started this journey was to see what was waiting out there for her and a job, even a temporary one, would fit the bill. She did want to experience new things. "That depends. Are you offering me one?"

"Do you know how to tend bar?" Big Sally countered.

"No," Emily said with a rueful smile. "I just know how to close down one."

"Pity."

"I said no!" Both Emily and Big Sally turned to see one of the patrons grab the waitress by the wrist. The girl's eyes widened with fear. "Let go of me!" she cried, trying to break free.

Without thinking, Emily was off the barstool and at their side in two long strides. She grabbed the drunk by the thumb and bent it backwards. He let out a yelp of surprise, letting go of the waitress' arm. With a deft flick of her wrist, Emily had his arm twisted behind his back. He cried out in pain and dropped to his knees.

Emily leaned in to whisper in his ear. "When a woman says no, she means no. Do you understand me?" He nodded quickly. She applied more pressure to his arm. "Say it out loud."

"Yes! Yes! Yes! I got it. Can you let go of me?" he whined, struggling to free himself from her vise like grip.

"I think you're done now," she said in a low voice. "Get out of here!" she ordered and shoved him away from her, sending him sprawling over the peanut shell covered floor.

He lurched to his feet and spun, intending to teach the pushy broad a lesson for humiliating him in front of his drinking buddies. He froze in place, right fist drawn back, when he locked eyes with hers. Emily glared back, her eyes cold and almost black in anger, daring him to take a swing at her. The drunk backed down. Muttering under his breath, he staggered off toward the exit, the other patrons giving him a wide berth.

Big Sally came over to Emily and clapped her on the back. "I don't care if you don't know the difference between a fuzzy navel and a whiskey sour, you're hired."

Emily turned to her with a look of surprise. "Really?"

"Really," she chuckled. "Lets go back to the bar to discuss terms."

"Okay," she agreed, retrieving the cane she dropped when she grabbed the drunken fool and limped after the blonde bartender.

Once she was resettled on her barstool, Emily took a deep drink of her Coke, rewetting her throat that suddenly had gone dry. She was upset with herself over how quickly she had lost control of her emotions. It had been a struggle to stop herself from smashing his face into the floor and pounding at it until it was nothing but a bloody pulp. This wasn't her, but then she hasn't been herself since the day of the shooting. From here on she vowed she would do a better job of reining in her temper.

Big Sally poured herself a drink. "I take it you can start immediately?"

Emily nodded. Feeling nervous, she attempted to clear her throat by taking another sip of her drink. She was about to step into uncharted waters. "I don't know how good I'm going to be at it. I waitressed back in college and I really sucked at it."

"I think you'll do just fine," Big Sally predicted with a wise nod.

The two women sipped their drinks in silence for a few minutes before the bartender spoke up again. "So do you have any place to stay?"

Emily put her glass down and shook her head. "Not yet. I've only been in town for a couple of hours and I've spent all of that time here." Big Sally chuckled at that as Emily continued. "You wouldn't happen by chance to know of a decent motel that is not the local hangout for every hooker and john in town?"

Big Sally leaned one elbow on the bar. "I've got something better than that. There's a one-room apartment above the bar. It's not much but it's clean and private."

"How much?" It sounded intriguing.

"For you, I'll give you the employee discount. Twenty dollars a week." She had wanted to offer the space rent-free but she suspected Emily wouldn't accept it.

Emily thought about it then held out her hand. "Deal."

Big Sally shook hands with her. "I got the key in the office. I'll be right back."

While she was gone, Emily looked down at the half empty glass in her hand and smiled. "Well, tonight has been a surprise. Looks like I'm sleeping with a roof over my head for awhile."

* * *

Emily stood in the parking lot behind the bar looking at the wooden staircase leading up to the apartment. She unconsciously rubbed her bad leg. It still didn't like doing stairs. After readjusting the strap of the backpack draped over one shoulder, she shifted the other bag to her right hand. Grasping the railing with her left, Emily slowly limped up the stairs wincing at every step.

She inserted the key into the lock and let herself in. Pausing on the threshold, she reached over to flip on the light and looked around. Big Sally had been right, it wasn't much but it suited her needs. To her immediate left was a kitchenette with a small stove, a sink, a microwave and an ancient refrigerator. Two doors with a table between them were along the left hand wall. Emily guessed one was a closet and the other lead to the bathroom. The wall on the right of her had a sofa bed and end table shoved against it. The far wall had two windows over looking the street with a dresser underneath. On top of it was a television that just fit into the small space between the windows.

Stepping the rest of the way in, she closed the door with a chuckle. Judging from the size of the room that when the sofa bed was unfolded, she would have to climb over it to reach the bathroom.

"It may not be the Ritz, but for now it's home," she said aloud to herself with a smile.

She then set about unpacking her meager possessions. The black duffle bag contained her clothes and the backpack her books. Tomorrow, before work, she would see if she could find a used bookstore where she could trade them in for some new titles. In less than ten minutes she was done. Then she settled in for the night. Emily unfolded the bed, found the pillows and blankets in the closet and stretched out. Shifting around so that the metal bar of the frame didn't hit her in the back, she picked up the bartender's guide Big Sally had given her with every intention of adding to her limited knowledge of mixed drinks. But she couldn't seem to focus, her mind kept drifting back to the scene she had made in the bar, unable to shake the feeling she had. She was a pro at hiding deciphering emotion, but she couldn't quite place whatever it was that she felt. Seeing that guy completely ignoring the waitress' call of no set something off in her. Why didn't people ever listen?

Rolling her eyes because she swore it would never happen, something Allison said before she left popped into her mind. If she had a feeling that made her confused or even uncomfortable, she could try the journal…the journal she was given was still tucked away in her backpack, untouched. She hadn't planned on packing it, yet it still found its way into the bag.

Was she really going to give into it? Emily started an internal debate that leaned more toward just giving the stupid exercise a try. She studied this stuff and knew it was a valid tool. She just never though it would be something she did. Still, the uncomfortable, confusing whatever that was happening now had to be worked out somehow, and if the journal helped, then great. She'd be happy. So, she went into her backpack, pulled out the pristine journal and a pen, climbed back into bed and began writing.

* * *

Big Sally was impressed with how quickly Emily picked up bartending. Emily was too, certain she would suck at it like she did at waitressing. Within two weeks she was serving drinks like a professional. The customers liked her and she seemed to like them. She would listen to their problems and dreams with a sympathetic ear but rarely offered any advice. The blonde noticed that, beyond the conversations with customers, Emily rarely spoke. Not once had she talked about her time before coming to town. If pressed, she would only give vague answers. But overall, Emily seemed happy and content.

Yet there was one thing Emily wasn't happy with. She hated taking trash and recyclables out. She was still using her cane when she wasn't behind the bar so it made moving the bags more difficult. But it was part of the job so she manhandled them outside and heaved them into their proper bins. Once done, she would pause to catch her breath and rub her bad leg, cussing out the UnSub for shooting her.

One day as she was turning to go back inside, an odd sound arrested her steps. Emily swore it sounded like a whimper and it came from the far side of the dumpsters. Curious, she peeked around the dumpster and let out a soft gasp. Huddled against the wall of the building was a small tan dog licking at a nasty looking gash on its left hip. It had a wiry coat and two adorable ears, one that folded over and the other that stood at full attention and no collar. She knew animals often bit when injured so she cautiously approached.

"Oh, you poor thing. Someone shot you," Emily cooed softly as she removed the towel she kept tucked over the apron she wore tied around her waist. "Believe me, I know exactly how you feel."

With the hand holding the towel hovering over the injury site, Emily discretely checked the dog's eyes. They were hazel and they weren't filled with pain and fear, but pain and trust. Holding her breath, she pressed down on the wound and the dog rewarded her tender mercy with a whimper…and a lick to her hand.

"Good dog," she praised and used her free hand to tentatively scratch behind the upright ear. She chuckled as the dog went slightly cross-eyed.

She lifted the towel to see it stained red with blood. The wound was still bleeding, but it was more of a trickle than a steady stream. That was good. The poor thing wasn't going to bleed to death before she got it to a vet. Emily secured the towel around the leg as best she could and then went to pick the dog up, sliding her arms under its chest and rump. The dog wasn't too heavy, weighing in around twenty pounds so it wasn't much of a struggle to stand up without the use of her cane.

"I've got you," she said, holding the dog close to her chest. It looked up with thankful eyes and kissed her chin.

Retrieving her cane from where it was leaning against the dumpster. Emily limped back inside the bar with her precious cargo to ask Big Sally where the nearest vet was.

* * *

"Is it bad?" Emily asked the kind looking vet.

"Not at all," he replied, gently dabbing at the drying blood. "Like you said, it appears to be a bullet graze. Someone took a shot at this adorable little guy. We'll just shave and clean the area, stitch it up and once he wakes up, you can take him home."

"Uh…he's not mine. He's a stray. I found him behind the place I'm working at."

"What a shame." He scratched the dog's ears. "He's got a good disposition. He's about two years old so he's fully grown. Given his size, he'll make a good apartment dog. Are you sure you don't want to take him home?"

"Positive. I'm more of a cat person," Emily hastily explained, taking a step back from the examination table. "I also going to traveling a lot and won't be able to take care of him."

"I understand."

"I'll gladly pay for everything he'll need to be adopted. I just want him to find a good home. He shouldn't be out on the street with people taking potshots at him."

"We'll make sure of that," the vet assured her. "I'm sure he won't be at the shelter long. Someone will snatch him up quickly because of his size and temperament."

"Thank you." Emily gave the dog on last pat on the head. "You be a good boy and give your new owner plenty of love."

When the dog saw that she was leaving, he tried to follow her, but when the vet stopped him from doing so, he set off an awful din. Soon the small space was filled with his mournful whines and the sound of his toenails trying to find purchase on the steel table. Emily paused and looked back, his hazel eyes boring into her, imploring her not to leave him. Emily almost wavered, but at the last possible second, she stiffened her back and walked out, blocking out his cries. He was adorable, but she didn't need a dog. If she really wanted a traveling companion, she would've brought Sergio along even if he got carsick. The vet would find him a good home where he would be happier than he would be with her. That's what she kept telling herself as she drove away.

* * *

As much as she tried not too, Emily's mind constantly wandered to the dog she found. She had checked in with the vet on the false pretense of finding the final total of the bill. The little guy was doing well, ready to find his forever home, and they were working with a shelter where he could go once he was ready. Soon…there was something about the dog that stuck with her and kept him in her thoughts.

Big Sally noticed too. It wasn't hard to miss. Normally her new bartender was very focused on her job, but of late she seemed distracted, getting orders wrong, putting things back in the wrong place, or forgetting to let her know when they were out of something. She was sure there were many things lingering on Emily's mind, but she knew the mutt was there too. Emily, to her, seemed a bit lonely. Maybe she was wrong, but she didn't think she was.

"What's on your mind?" Big Sally asked her when Emily seemed to have a distant look. At the same time she retrieved two beer bottles the brunette had just absently tossed into the trash.

Emily let out a sigh. "The dog's going to the shelter this afternoon."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

"What?"

"Go get him."

"But…I can't."

"Who says?" Big Sally raised her eyes. "So you've always had cats. They're great, but so are dogs. They make good traveling companions and you seem like you could use that."

"Where would I keep him?" Emily protested even as she was warming to the idea. She had to admit she missed Sergio, especially at night. She always slept better when she could feel the comforting warmth of his body nestled in the bend of her knees.

"In the apartment," she said obviously. "You take care of him, make sure he's housebroken if he's not already. That's all I ask."

"I will," she said, giddy like a child.

The bar owner smiled as Emily rushed out to her car. That turned out to be not too hard. Emily wanted the dog, but just needed a nudge in the right direction.

* * *

Emily hurried into the veterinary clinic as fast as her bad leg would let her, which unfortunately wasn't very fast. The receptionist looked up and smiled when she reached the counter.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Prentiss. Are you here to settle up the bill?"

"Yes and I'm also here for the dog. I've decided to keep him. They haven't sent him to the shelter yet?" she asked hopefully.

"No, he's still here. If you will follow me."

Emily breathed a sigh of relief as the receptionist lead the way to the kennel area of the building. Up to this moment Emily hadn't known how much she wanted the dog. In one of the cages, the dog was curled up in the corner. An air of sadness hung over him, but it dissipated the second he saw her. In a flash he was on his feet, pawing at the gate and letting out happy barks and yips.

"This is the most active he's been sine he's been here," the woman commented as she unlatched the gate. "He must have missed you."

That was made obvious when the dog launched himself into the air as soon as the gate was opened. Emily barely had enough time to drop the cane before she caught him and pulled him into his chest. The dog squirmed in her arms trying to find the best angle to lavish her face with thankful doggie kisses. Emily chuckled as she turned her head away from the worst of them.

"Looks like he has found his forever home. Have you picked out a name for him yet?"

"Geordie," Emily answered immediately. She didn't know why she plucked that name out of thin air, but one look at him told her it was a perfect fit.

"He looks like a Geordie. I like it."

Emily adjusted her grip on him. "I've never owned a dog before. Only cats so I don't know what stuff I'm supposed to get."

"That's no problem. We have a list we give to all new pet parents."

Emily blinked in surprise. Pet parent? When did politically correctness come to pet ownership? The last she heard it was still owner, but when she thought about it, it did make sense. Most owners considered their pets as a member of the family and not a piece of property. She blinked a second time at the length of the list. Sergio didn't require this much stuff when she got him. He seemed quite content with a few stuff mice, bed, a climbing tree and catnip. Well there was nothing she could do now. She was committed so she paid the bill and asked directions to the nearest pet supply store.

* * *

When she first pulled into the parking lot, Emily had planned on leaving the newly dubbed Geordie in the car, but then she saw two people exiting the store with their dogs. Taking that as evidence that pets were allowed to enter, she tucked him under one arm and limped inside, dumping him and her cane in the nearest shopping cart. Geordie moved to the front of the cart, standing up on his hind legs so he could see over the side and tail wagging furiously. With him doing his best impression of a hood ornament, she made a beeline for the leashes and collars. Since he was a boy she chose blue and soon he was fitted with a collar and matching leash in royal blue. She also tossed in a retractable leash and a harness.

In the toy aisle, Emily absently chewed her lip as she tried to figure out what he might like. Geordie helped her out by selecting a purple plush alligator from a pile at his level. She added a few more along the similar line and with him squeaking happily at her side, she continued shopping. When done she her head at the cart's contents: food, treats, dental chews, grooming supplies, toys, bed, crate, bowls, seatbelt harness and poop scooping bags.

"You're costing me a pretty penny," she accused him at the check out.

Geordie looked up at her with adoring eyes, wagged his tail and squeaked twice. He was so in love with his new toy that he refused to give it up, forcing Emily to pick him up and wave him and the toy over the scanner. With the help from a stock boy, she got everything loaded and drove back to her apartment.

* * *

"Well, what do you think of your new home?" Emily asked the dog, dropping the last of the bags on the fold out couch. With her bad leg it took several trips to get everything upstairs.

Geordie ignored her as he happily checked out the apartment, poking his nose in all the corners and sniffing everything. He even attempted to look out the window by jumping up and down.

"Thought you would say that," she said with a smile.

She then set about unpacking the bags. Emily found an out of the way spot to put the bowls so that she wouldn't trip over them and filled one with water. Under the window nearest to the couch she placed the dog bed. Big Sally told her to take the rest of the day off to get acquainted with her new roommate and that's what she did. They played with all of his new toys and took a long walk that both enjoyed. They were a matched pair. Both limping from their gunshot wounds though her limp was permanent and more pronounced.

After one final trip outside for a potty break, the duo settled in for the night. Emily unfolded her bed and pointed to the dog bed.

"Geordie, on your bed," she commanded and was surprised when he listened. He circled three times before plopping down and sighing in contentment. Within minutes his soft snoring filled the small room.

Emily climbed into hers and spent the next hour reading the dog-training book she picked up at the store. This was something she never had to worry about with Sergio. He was very independent and did what he wanted to do when he wanted to regardless of what she thought he should be doing. He would flick his long tail at her and continue to demolish the potted plant. Hopefully Geordie is not so stubborn and a quick learner.

After the third yawn that nearly cracked her jaw, Emily decided to call it a night, setting the book aside and turning out the light. Around midnight the bed making a bouncing motion awakened her. Then she felt a small body snuggle up against her leg. Geordie. She should tell him to get down, but she found his presence comforting. Smiling Emily went back to sleep and had a nightmare free night.

* * *

Then several months in, Big Sally noticed a change in Emily. She seemed restless and finally on a slow night asked her about it. "Emily, is everything okay with you? You seem to be a little off and that is hard to do for a woman who is already very quiet."

Emily sighed and dropped the rag she was using to absently wipe down the bar. "I think it's time to move on," she admitted. Seeing the blonde's questioning look, she continued. "When I first got here I wasn't sure what I was looking for beyond the charm of this town, but I know I've found all I can here. Now it's time for me to move on," she said with an apologetic smile.

"I can understand that," Big Sally said with a nod. "It doesn't feel right now."

"Exactly," Emily said, smiling in relief.

There was a run on the bar so the two women broke off the conversation and focused on filling the drink orders. As they worked, Big Sally kept casting glances at Emily. Now that she had voiced what had been bothering her, she was more at ease and happier. Leaving was obviously the right decision for her. Emily caught her staring and gave her one of her rare, genuine smiles.

"When do you think you'll be leaving?" she asked when the rush was over.

"I think it would be best if I left tomorrow."

 _So soon?_ As much as Big Sally hated that she was losing one of the best bartenders she had in years, she knew she couldn't stand in her way. "So where will you be heading?"

Emily thought about it as she rinsed out several beer bottles. "I'm not sure. Maybe I'll let my fingers take a walk through the atlas and see where they stop," she said and tossed the bottles in the recycle bin.

"I hope they will pick a place that will be to your liking.

"I hope so," she said then turned to wait on the two women who had stepped up to the bar.

* * *

Emily was true to her word. By noon the next day she was ready to go. She had packed their bags and had given the apartment a good cleaning; making sure it was in the same condition she had originally found it when she had moved in. Shouldering the backpack, she picked up the duffle bag and opened the door.

"Ready to go?" she asked Geordie who was sitting next to the sofa bed.

He let out a happy yip, dashed past her and bounded down the stairs. Emily shook her head at his eagerness to go for a car ride. Before closing the door, she took one last look at the place she had thought was home for the past three months. Sadly it turned out not to be true. With a soft sigh, she closed the door and limped down to the car where Geordie impatiently waited. Emily opened the back door so that he could hop in while she stowed the bags in the trunk. Then she slid behind the wheel. It was time to hit the road and see what the next exciting new place held for her.


	10. Chapter 10

Emily had been gone for a few months now and most of the team's contact with her had been minimal. They understood. She needed time to heal and do her thing. They knew she would be okay, that she would come back and get in touch more later on, but that didn't stop them from worrying about her traveling for so long. Dave had to admit, though, that he spent a lot of time worrying about her even if she did check in with an occasional letter or postcard. He knew she needed this and knew she could handle herself, but she was as close to a daughter as he has. So, he spent more time than he wanted to admit worried about what she was doing, where she was, and how she wa getting by.

"Pull yourself together, Old Man. Time to get back to work," he chided himself and picked up the mail that had been delivered while his mind drifted to Emily. He shuffled through them.

With a sigh, he dropped the stack on his desk and stared at the lone envelope in his hand. He immediately recognized Emily's neat printing. Dave took the time to study the front of the envelope before opening it, just as he always did. This time, he noting that the return address was her home address in DC and it bore a postmark from Georgia.

There was a slight sense of trepidation, the worry that it could say there was something wrong or that she found a place she liked so much that she's wasn't coming back, but he managed to push past that and slit the envelope with his letter opener. He smiled when a photo fell to the desk. Immediately picking it up, he noticed a small tan dog and Emily sitting on some kind of bench, the dog laying, belly up, on Emily's sprawled out legs. Still smiling, he took a moment to read over the letter. There was another photo of the dog…Geordie…with a plush purple alligator between his paws included and some details about her latest destination. It was enough to pacify his worry for now, even make him a little happier. She had a traveling companion.

Holding the letter and photos in his hand, Dave walked out into the bullpen. Everyone was around their desks doing something or other.

"I got a letter from Emily," he announced, holding up the envelope.

Four pairs of surprised eyes tuned to him. "What did she say?" Penelope asked excitedly. Then before Dave could answer, she plucked the letter from his fingers and started reading, lips moving silently as she did.

Derek chuckled. "Baby Girl, try doing it out loud. We would like to know what's going on."

Penelope did as she was asked and read off the letter, sharing the new developments in Emily's life from her current location to the dog. Everyone listened intently. They missed her, especially Derek who doubted Emily would be happy he was included in the moment.

"Aw. Look at these cute pictures," Penelope swooned, passing the photos around. "I'm surprised. She has always been more of a cat lady. She's trading species."

"They say sometimes it's the animal that does the adopting and not the person," Reid observed.

"She found a travel buddy, though," JJ added. "I think that's great."

Truly, they were all happy Emily was doing what she thought she needed, but they really did want her back with them. They wanted to support her and help her work through things, maybe patch things up with Derek. They couldn't really do that with her hopping around the country. They just had to let it play out, though, and hope she enjoyed her time on the road.

* * *

Emily was back on the road, Geordie sticking his head out the window as they hit the highway. It's been a few months since she left Big Sally and Cedartown, Georgia behind and she hasn't been able to find another place quite as welcoming. So she took to the road to see where it led her. Some of the places she had visited were major cities while others were so small that if you blinked at the wrong time you would have missed it completely. Some were quaint and some looked like they were on the verge of dying. Those that captured her attention, she stuck around for a week or two to test the waters. If it wasn't a good fit she moved on to the next one.

As to her mental state, it was better than it had been in Washington. Emily was still depressed, but it wasn't as deep as before. The change of scenery has been good for her and so has getting away from the team's worried looks. She loved them dearly, but their concern had been smothering. Of course she had good days and bad days. Those usually occurred after a night plagued by dreams of the three children dying before her eyes or accusing her of not doing enough to save them and left her holed up in her motel room. For that very reason Emily tried to pick up odd jobs as a bartender whenever she was staying put for a while. The jobs, besides supplying her with pocket money, were a form of therapy. They got her to leave the motel room everyday and get out among people.

Geordie was also a big help during those rough nights. Now she had someone she could talk to and cuddle with…he loved to cuddle…someone who offered only comfort and not advice.

Even though Emily had put her old life on hold, it didn't stop her from occasionally thinking about the team. They were her family, and, though she was trying to enjoy her travels and keep her mind in the present, she still wanted to be connected to them. She reached out, through letters and postcards, but not nearly as much as she thought about doing it. There were times that she wanted to hear their voices or talk about whatever cases they were working on, but she was wandering to fix a part of herself that always relying on them and talking about work would not help. Work was what messed her up. That case messed her up. The distance was okay, she reminded herself. She wasn't closed off nor did she cut off all communication. Still, she needed space and freedom to roam. Of course at times there were exceptions to the rules.

 _Emily sat at the far end of the bar quietly eating her dinner. From her perch she could clearly see all the patrons of this cozy pub. Whenever she stopped in a town for a few days, she always went in search for a bar or pub that served food. She discovered that eating by yourself in a restaurant always seemed to draw the curious eyes of the other diners. Those eyes would wonder if she had been stood up or if she was a sad, lonely woman. In bars no one seemed to care if she was alone and that suited Emily just fine. That had been how she got her jobs, sitting in a bar minding her own business._

 _"Pardon me. I think you owe me a drink."_

 _She looked up to find a blonde man with a spray on tan and too white teeth leaning on the bar next to her. She put down her napkin and rested her chin on her intertwined fingers. This should be good, she thought._

 _"Why?" she asked with a skeptical arch of an eyebrow._

 _His fake smile grew wider. "Because when I saw you from across the room I dropped mine. It was a rum and coke, and my name is Brad."_

 _Emily stared at him then burst into a fit of laughter, flashing back to Brad 'the genuine FBI agent' with the real smooth pick up lines. Apparently every bar in every city had their own version of Brad. Still laughing she tossed a few bills on the bar to cover her meal and left a befuddled Brad in her wake._

That had been the first time since the day she was shot that she laughed that hard; so hard it brought tears to her eyes. It had felt good. As soon as she had gotten back to her motel room Emily had automatically reached for the phone, intending on calling Penelope about the 'Brad' encounter. But she caught herself just as her hand was about to pick up the receiver. If she called, the analyst would start peppering her with questions that she would never get a word in edgewise, but this story was too good to be passed up. It had to be shared. Before she could change her mind, Emily punched in the number.

"Hey, PG, do I have a story for you."

* * *

Emily peered through the windshield as the fluffy snowflakes drifted through the headlight's beams. Normally, she loved to watch the snow fall, but not tonight. She just wasn't feeling so well. When she and Geordie left Ishpeming in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan she had felt good, but a deep ache had settled into her bones and she could feel the beginning of a headache coming on.

"I think I'm catching a cold," she confessed to Geordie who was in the backseat, but had his front paws on the center armrest so he could look out the windshield. "I saw a sign for an upcoming town. What do you say we stop there for the night?"

Geordie woofed right into her ear, making Emily wince in pain. She reached and pushed him back relieved not to have him panting down her neck.

"Glad to see you are in agreement," she chuckled and cranked up the heat as high as it would go. Emily was suddenly very cold.

He thumped his tail against the seat causing her to glance at him in the rear view mirror. She smiled at the goofy doggie grin on his face and dropped her eyes back down to the road.

"SHIT!" Emily cursed as she jammed on the brakes and jerked the wheel to the left in a futile attempt to avoid the deer that had materialized in her lane.

The car struck the poor animal dead on with a sickening thud, catapulting the carcass onto the hood and shattering the windshield. Instinctively Emily threw up her hands to shield her face from any flying glass. The car skidded on the snow and careened across the road down into a small ravine. She grabbed the wheel in a desperate attempt to steer clear of any danger, but it was too late. The airbag exploded as the car slammed into a tree.

"Shit," she swore again as she pushed the deflating airbag out of the way.

White powder from the explosion covered everything from her hair to the dashboard. Emily tried brushing it off, but only succeeded in stirring it up. She sneezed three times in quick succession before looking in back to check on her canine companion.

He looked okay, but she asked anyway. "You okay, Geordie?"

He let out an anxious whine before hopping into the front seat and sitting in her lap. Together they studied the shattered windshield, Emily automatically stroking his back in a calming manner.

"Guess we should get out and survey the damage. I hope it's not as bad as I think it is."

Not wanting Geordie to take off and get lost in the dark, she clipped the leash to his collar. As soon as Emily opened the door, he was out like a shot and jerked to an abrupt halt when he ran out of leash. With a soft grunt of pain, she released the seatbelt and eased out into the cold winter air.

It was worse than she thought. In addition to the damaged windshield, the entire front was crumpled in from the impact with the deer and tree. The car was undriveable and possibly a total loss. They were going to need a winch to get it back up to the road.

"Damn, I really love this car," Emily said sadly as she watched steam from the radiator swirling in the beams of the one still working headlight.

Releasing a defeated sigh, Emily reached for her phone to call for help. Her hand came up empty. Panicking slightly, she frisked every pocket she had, but there was no phone to be found. Then, much to her chagrin, she remembered she had put it on the passenger seat for easy access. Now after the crash it could be anywhere in the car and she had little chance of finding it in the dark. That left her with only one option. She was going to have to find some help and it wasn't going to be easy. She preferred to travel the back roads, it was night and she hadn't seen another car for the past half hour.

"Looks like we're going to have to hoof it out here," she said to Geordie who was busy trying to mark every tree within his reach.

Getting back up to the road was a slow and sometimes a painful process. The embankment wasn't steep, but her bum leg made it seem like it was. All Emily could do was to take it one step at a time. The snow, that was falling harder with each passing minute, made for slippery footing and she no longer had the use of her cane. It had been banished to the trunk weeks ago because it was a hassle to use and she thought it made her look more like an invalid that she really was. Geordie sensing her difficulty didn't pull on the leash, staying at her side.

By the time she reached the top, Emily was panting and sweating from the exertion. They should add hill climbing to physical therapy, she thought wryly as she tried to catch her breath. It's definitely a stamina builder. And here she had thought she was in pretty good condition given her situation, but she felt like the way she did during her first PT session, bone weary and exhausted.

After a few minutes of heavy breathing, Emily was rested enough to continue on. Recalling seeing lights about a mile back, she headed in that direction, Geordie frolicking ahead of her as he enjoyed his first snowfall.

The lights she saw in passing did belong to a farmhouse set a fair distance from the road. Emily was nearly numb with cold as she mounted the steps of the covered porch and rang the doorbell. She shifted from foot to foot to get warm as she prayed someone was home.

Just as she was about to ring the bell a second time, the porch light snapped on and the door swung open, revealing a tall man with unruly sandy brown hair and a matching neatly trimmed beard.

Emily was immediately drawn to his eyes. They were blue, a nice warm blue. When he cleared his throat, she realized she was staring and quickly broke it off. To cover her embarrassment, she dropped her gaze to the dog sitting at her feet.

"I apologize for knocking on your door at this late hour, but I was wondering if I could use your phone? I hit a deer about a mile up the road and now I'm in need of a tow truck to get my car out of the ravine. I would use my own phone, but I have no idea where it is. The crash sent it flying.

The corners of his blue eyes crinkled in amusement as she rambled on. "Certainly. Please come in, both of you," he invited, including Geordie. "You must be freezing."

"I am and thank you," she said gratefully and then let out a very unladylike sneeze.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"That sounds wonderful."

"Great, but first let me take your wet coat. Then you can warm yourself by the fire while I make it."

"Much appreciated," she said as he helped her out of the snow soaked coat and hug it on a peg over the bench in the foyer to dry.

She waited for him to disappear into the kitchen before moving into the living room and over to the fireplace. There she held out her chilled hands to the flames to warm them. The heat felt wonderful. Geordie wanted to explore the room, but he was also shy around strangers so he stuck to Emily's side like Velcro.

"Here you go," he announced a few minutes later, a mug of steaming hot coffee in each hand. He held out one. "This should help after your long cold walk."

Emily gratefully accepted the hot brew and took a tentative sip to avoid scalding her tongue. She immediately felt the heat spreading throughout her body and let out an appreciative sigh. "It does," she agreed, turning so that her back faced the fire.

"I should probably introduce myself," he said. "Greg Novacek."

"Emily Prentiss…and Geordie," she added with a smile, nodding at the dog practically hiding behind her legs.

"It's a pleasure." _God, she's got a beautiful smile_ , he thought and gave her one of his own. "So you hit a deer?"

"Yeah." Her smile turned into a grimace as she thought of her wrecked car. She loved that car. "One second the road was empty and the next second it was in the middle of the road."

"That happens a lot, especially out here, and you have to be extra careful because there's usually more than one."

"I'll remember that," Emily said and sneezed.

"Gesundheit," he said, thinking she had a cute sneeze that went along with her pretty name.

"Thank you." Emily fished a tissue out of her jeans' pocket and wiped her nose. "I think I'm catching a cold."

"It's that time of the year." He blessed her two more times before saying, "I called the local garage while I was waiting on the coffeemaker. They said they could get to it sometime tomorrow. They prefer doing it during the day so they can see what they're doing."

"Oh."

She should have known that. This wasn't the city where you could call and get your car towed within an hour. She was out in the country and the nearest town might have only one tow truck that was out rescuing other people on this snowy night. Her car was definitely off the road and not a traffic hazard.

"I guess that will have to do." Emily finished her coffee and set the empty mug on the nearest table. "In the meantime I should be going. Thank you for your hospitality."

"Not a problem," Greg said, "but I don't think you're going anywhere for the rest of the night. It's whiteout conditions out there."

Emily went over to the window and saw he was right. All she saw was swirling snow that was quickly accumulating. Only polar bears and penguins would be out in this weather. Looks like she and Geordie were stranded with a stranger…a rather good-looking stranger.

"So it seems. I don't want to impose."

"Think nothing of it, Emily. I have a perfectly good guest room itching to be used."

"But I have nothing to wear," she protested, trying to stave off the inevitable. "My bags are back in my car."

"I'll loan you a pair of clean pajamas," he countered. "and I have plenty of extra toothbrushes."

Emily knew when she was beat. If she was feeling better, she could have kept the banter going for a while longer before giving in, but she wasn't. Right now a nice warm bed sounded quite appealing.

"That would work," she conceded.

"Great," he beamed. "Let me show you the way."

Greg led her and Geordie to the stairs. Geordie, as usual, had to be the first to reach the top. He bounded up the steps and waited with tail wagging for them to catch up. As Emily preceded Greg up the stairs, he frowned in concern when he saw the hitch in her step.

"Emily, was your leg injured in the accident?"

"What?" She turned to him in confusion. Then she realized he was referring to her ever-present limp. As time passed it had become a permanent part of her that she rarely gave it a second thought. "Oh…no. The limp is from a previous accident."

He sighed in relief. "Whew. I was about to kick myself for not noticing and getting you to a doctor."

"Nope. Old injury."

Issue resolved, they continued up the stairs and down the short hallway, pointing out the bathroom along the way. Once there, Greg left Emily to study her surroundings while he fetched the promised pajamas. The room was sparse with a double bed covered by a gray heather plaid blanket and matching gray sheets, a dresser, two nightstands and an armchair by the window. It was obvious the space wasn't used very often. And hanging on the far wall was an oil painting o a herd of horses galloping through a meadow.

"I'm going to apologize in advance for the pajamas not fitting."

"Well, I highly doubt you keep a pair of ladies pajamas on hand on the off chance you have a woman stranded at your house because of a deer," she said lightly, hoping to disguise the fact that he had startled her.

"You're my first," Greg said with a chuckle.

"I hope so."

An uneasy silence filled the room as the two gazed at each other, at a loss about what to say next. Greg was the first to flinch when the pressure got to him.

"I better get going," he announced, backing up toward the door. "If you need anything, my room is the second door on the left."

"Thank you. Good night, Greg."

"Night, Emily."

Emily hid her smile when Greg almost ran into the doorframe when he turned to leave. He flashed her a sheepish grin before disappearing from sight, going back downstairs to close up for the night.

"Nice guy," she said to Geordie as she closed the door. "He's given us shelter from the storm."

Geordie expressed his sentiments by thumping his tail on the floor several times and then inviting himself up on the bed. He circled in place four times, collapsing at the foot of the bed with a contented sigh. He would wait for Emily to fall asleep before creeping over to curl up in the bend of her knees. Like every morning she would wake and find the small dog in possession of eighty percent of the bed, leaving her perched rather precariously on the edge.

Emily changed into the loaned pajamas, agreeing with Greg's assessment. They were two sizes too big for her. She didn't mind that the top was too baggy; she liked them that way when she slept, but the pants were a different matter. Even though the drawstring was tied as tightly as possible, she was afraid the moment she took a step the bottoms would end up puddle around her ankles.

"Where's a pair of suspenders when you need one," she muttered to the dog.

She resolved the issue by keeping a firm grip on the waistband as she made her way to the bathroom. There she found a fresh toothbrush waiting for her on the countertop. After completing her evening ablutions, Emily limped back to her temporary bedroom and crawled beneath the covers. Normally she read or wrote in her journal for a while before turning off the light, but both books were back in her wrecked car with everything else she owned. But tonight she didn't have to energy to do anything. All she wanted to do was sleep.

Feeling colder, Emily burrowed deeper under the thick blanket, all the way up to her nose. She was definitely coming down with a cold and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The cold has to run its course. Tomorrow she would collect her belongings, find a hotel to stay in until her car was repaired and medicate herself up to her eyeballs. Her last thought she had as she let the howling winds of the blizzard slamming the area lull her to sleep was that tomorrow was another day.

* * *

 _The 2017 Profiler's Choice Awards are on! Calling all CM readers and Authors! Join us in the annual Profiler's Choice CM Awards; help us choose the best of the best Criminal Minds fanfiction and let your voice be heard. Check out the nomination ballot and rules at the Profilers Choice Awards 2017 Forum. All rules and information can be found there. Nominations begin November 14, 2017 and end December 31, 2017._


	11. Chapter 11

Little Evan Novacek stood in the doorway of his house's spare bedroom gazing at the strange lady sleeping. His daddy had invited her to sleep over one night a couple of days ago. He told him and his brother that they weren't allowed to go in because she was sick and needed to rest. His father even had Doctor Barnes stop by to check her out. Evan was a little confused by that. Whenever he or Cole was sick, they had to go the doctor, not the other way around. He sighed and his blue eyes drifted over to the small tan dog. He and Cole were itching to play with him, but the dog hadn't left the lady's side except to go outside to poop.

Cole materialized next to Evan at the door with a pack of hot dogs in his hand.

"That dinner?" Evan asked with a frown, pointing to the package.

"No dummy, they're for the dog. Dogs like hot dogs, so we can use them to make him come," he explained, rolling his eyes.

"Then we eat?"

Sighing, Cole continued. "I'll give you one hot dog, but you have to go in and give it to him."

"But Daddy said we're not allowed to go in," Evan protested.

"Don't you want to play with the dog?"

He did. Excited to be part of his big brother's plan, Evan nodded eagerly and took one of the hot dogs before tiptoeing into the bedroom. The only part of Geordie that was visible was his head that was resting on top of Emily's leg. His hazel eyes watched the boys' every move, waiting and ready to protect his mistress if need be.

"Do it," Cole encouraged from the doorway.

Little Evan moved closer, edging up to the side of the bed. He offered Geordie the treat, his hand reaching. Geordie's nose quivered in excitement as the scent of the hot dog hit it. He stole it before anything else could be done and quickly devoured it. Tail thumping softly on the bed, he waited to see what the boys did next.

"You weren't supposed to give it to him," Cole whispered-yelled. "Come back and get another one. You have to do it right this time."

"What do I do?" Evan ran back to fetch another hot dog.

"Rip it up like Dad does for dinner." Cole tore off a few pieces to show him. "Just like this."

Evan, with his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth, mimicked his brother's actions. "Look, I did it!" He proudly showed off the handful of ripped up meat.

"Good. Now go back and make a line of hot dog for the dog to follow."

"You help me?"

"Fine," Cole huffed and followed his little brother into the bedroom.

Just as they were about to start in on their trail, their back and forth on logistics caused Emily to stir. She let out a soft moan as she struggled to open her heavy eyes. She felt like crap. Her entire body ached from top to bottom, even her hair hurt. With a considerable amount of effort Emily forced her eyes open and focused on the two small blurry shapes frozen standing off to one side.

"Jack? Henry?" Emily croaked in confusion, grimacing slightly at the soreness of her throat.

Without answering the boys bolted out of the room like their pants were on fire, which only confused Emily more. A minute later she heard one of them shout at the top of his lungs, "Daddy! The strange lady is awake!"

Before Emily had a chance to ponder the oddity of the statement, her line of vision was filled with Geordie. He let out happy whines as he lavished her face with wet kisses. She chuckled and turned her face away while at the same time reaching up to scratch his ears

"Hey, G-man," she said, surprised at how scratchy her voice sounded. "How are you? You're acting like you haven't seen me in weeks."

"Woof," Geordie agreed softly, lying down on her chest and gazed at her with adoring eyes.

A coughing fit hit Emily and it worried her. It wasn't a dry hacking cough, but a deep, wet chest rattling one that made her think she was in danger of coughing up a lung. When she was done she looked for something to clear her throat and spotted a glass of water sitting next to a box of tissues on the nightstand. After dislodging Geordie, Emily retrieved the glass. She took a couple of sips, closed her eyes and sighed. The water felt so good on her throat.

"Good afternoon."

Emily jumped at the sound of the voice and looked to the door. Leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and a smile on his face was Greg.

"Uh…afternoon," she stammered.

Still smiling he came in and settled into the armchair drawn up next to the bed. He could see the confusion on her face and the dog's wariness.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

She was feeling extremely nervous for some reason. To cover it up, she downed the rest of the water and awkwardly returned the empty glass to the nightstand. Greg made no effort to help her for which she was really thankful. Now back to the question at hand. Did she fudge the truth or be completely honest with him? In the end Emily settled for the whole truth because she probably looked as bad as she felt.

"Actually I feel like crap," she admitted.

He chuckled. "You should. You have a bad case of the flu. You've been floating in and out of consciousness for the past three days with a temperature of 101. Your fever finally broke early this morning and you've been resting comfortably since."

Emily's eyes widened with surprise. "I…I've been here three days?"

"You have."

She was hit with another round of coughing. Greg got up and went to refill her water glass. He quickly returned and handed it to her, and then moved the box of tissue closer so she could reach it easier.

She drank some more water and blew her nose before marveling. "The flu? How could I have the flu? I made sure I had my flu shot before I left."

Greg chuckled again as he sat back down. He went to prop his feet on the bed, but Geordie's glower kept them firmly on the floor. "The flu shot doesn't prevent the flu, it just makes the symptoms much more bearable. Otherwise, right now you'll be thinking you're going to die."

She sagged back against the pillows and let her eyes drift to the ceiling. Emily absently obliged Geordie's nudge to resume the ear scratching. Eventually her eyes came back down to meet his. They were still that nice warm blue she remembered.

"More like death warmed over," she corrected.

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "When you didn't come down for breakfast, I got worried because I remembered you saying you thought you were catching a cold. When I came up to check on you, you were burning up and showing all the signs of having the flu. I call Doc Barnes to take a look at you. He only lives a mile down the road and I figured he would be able to tell if you needed to go to the hospital."

"I take it the answer was no since I'm still here," Emily said with a small smile, very glad that it didn't happen. She had her fill of being poked and prodded over the past year.

 _There's that beautiful smile of hers again_ , he thought. He didn't realized how much he missed seeing it over the last three days until now. "You would be correct. He told me to make sure you were comfortable and drink plenty of fluids."

Emily made a face. She knew she didn't handle being sick or injured well. Sometimes she could be down right a pain in the ass. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she amended it to most times. "I hope I wasn't too much trouble," she said, fiddling with the blanket.

"Not at all," Greg answered with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You grunted in annoyance at Doc Barnes before rolling over and going back to sleep. And several times when I woke you to give you your medication or to drink some water, you cussed at me in some foreign language."

"I did? I'm sorry about that." _My god, what did I say_ , she wondered worriedly. She knew some colorful words that could make a rock blush.

"Actually I found it quite refreshing."

She arched an eyebrow. "Refreshing?"

"Most of the time my patients try to bite me or are rather clingy. You were just cranky."

Emily tried to puzzle that out, but ended up coughing. Biting and clingy didn't go hand in hand. "What are you? A dentist?"

He chuckled. "Close, but no cigar. I'm a veterinarian and I also have two young sons."

"That makes more sense," she said at the same time Geordie let out a loud sigh of contentment and closed his eyes.

Greg noticed the change in the dog's behavior. "That's the most relaxed I've seen him. He hasn't left your side in three days except for bathroom breaks. He's very devoted to you."

Emily smiled fondly as she scratched one of Geordie's ears. "He's just wary of strangers. He was a stray I found behind a dumpster back in Georgia. Someone shot him." Her hand dropped down to his left hip where the hair had grown back in enough to hide the scar. Even his slight limp was gone while hers remained. They were no longer a matched pair, but she still loved him and didn't regret for one minute making him a part of her life.

"The poor guy," he commiserated, having seen and treated many an animal shot by a thoughtless and callous human. "He's also protective. Every time I had to get near you, he gave me the stink eye."

"But he let you do it."

"Yes. He would move to the foot of the bed where he would glower at me while growling occasionally under his breath. He was letting me know not to try anything funny," he said with a light chuckle. "But I think he also sensed I was trying to help you."

Emily chuckled at that. Geordie was a little terrier who thought he was a big Doberman. "Once he settles down and gets used to you, you'll find out he's a sweetheart and a total goofball." And settling down sounded pretty good right now. She was feeling achy and tired. So tired she could barely keep her eyes open.

Greg saw that her eyelids were drooping and realized all this talking was wearing her out. After all she was still fighting off the flu. He gently removed the drinking glass she was still holding.

"You know, we can continue this talk later. Why don't you get some rest."

"Sounds good," she agreed and let her eyes close the rest of the way.

The last thing Emily heard before falling asleep was Greg exclaiming, "Guys? Why are there pieces of hot dog all over the floor?"

* * *

Cole and Evan stood next to the bed staring at Emily as she slept. Their father had chewed them out for trying to lure the dog out of the bedroom with hot dogs. He said that if they wanted to play with the dog they would have to wait and ask her for permission. What their father didn't say was how long they had to wait before going in and asking.

"How long is she going to keep sleeping?" Evan asked his wise older brother. "She's been sleeping a long time."

"I guess you sleep a lot when you're sick. I know I do," Cole pronounced.

"I wish…" he trailed off and turned to his brother. "What did Daddy say her name was again?"

"Miss Prentiss."

Evan sighed as dramatically as a four year old could. "I wish Miss Rentiss would wake up so we can ask p'mission to play with Jack Henry."

Now it was Cole's turn to be confused. "Who's Jack Henry?"

"Him." He pointed at Geordie who was looking totally bored by the whole conversation. "She said his name earlier, 'member?"

"Oh, yeah." The older brother made a face. "But I don't think that's his name. I thought Dad said it was Porgie. That's a dumb name for a dog."

"I like Spot," Evan mused.

Cole scowled at his brother. "Spot? He's all brown. You can't call him Spot if he don't have any."

"Why not?"

"Because you can't. Woody."

"No. Buzz."

"No cartoon names," Cole decided, knowing they would never agree.

Evan scratched his head thoughtfully. "What about Luigi? Him not a cartoon."

"Mario's better anyway."

"How about Coco 'cause they're both brown."

Cole groaned. "That's a girl's name, you doofus. He's a boy dog. You see how he pees. Bowser," he suggested. "Bowser the dog."

"Bowser wanna play?" Evan called for the dog that continued to look bored even to the point of letting out a loud sigh. "He doesn't like it. Jack Henry, come play."

"Try Porgie."

Two voices whispering loud enough to wake the dead roused Emily from her sleep. She slowly opened her eyes and found two pairs of blue ones curiously gazing down at her. At first she was a little confused and thought it was Jack and Henry at her bedside, but then she realized that Jack didn't have blue eyes and both boys had light brown hair. But all four boys shared the same dimples when they smiled and that was what the two standing in front of her were doing right now.

"Hi!" they said brightly in unison, grinning from ear to ear.

"Uh…hi," Emily said and pushed her into a sitting position. They must be Greg' sons, she concluded since she highly doubted he would let strange children wander about his house.

She reached back to adjust the pillows behind her so that she could recline against the headboard. "So who might you two be?"

The older of the two pointed at himself then poked his brother in the arm. "I'm Cole," he said proudly. "And that's Evan."

"I'm four and he's seven," the other added.

"Nice to meet both of you," she said with a polite smile. "My name is —"

"Miss Rentiss," Evan cut in. "Daddy told us."

The corner of Emily's mouth twitched in amusement. Rentiss? That was a new one. Her last name has been mangled before, but not quite like that. It reminded her of how Jack would drop the 'I' out of Emily. "Actually it's Prentiss with a 'P'."

"That's what I said. Miss Rentiss."

"Okaay…" she conceded.

The three fell silent as they gazed at each other. After a long minute had passed, Evan started fidgeting and stealing glances at Geordie.

"Ah…so what can I do for you fellows?" she asked, choosing to the first to speak and break the silence.

"We wanna know if Jack Henry can come out and play?" Evan said, bouncing eagerly on his feet.

Emily blinked in confusion and automatically ran her hand over the dog's back. _How did they know those names?_ "Who's Jack Henry?"

Evan jabbed a finger at Geordie who blinked lazily at him. "Him. That's what you called him."

"I did? When?"

"When you woke up before," Cole said.

"Oh."

She continued to stroke Geordie as she came up blank. She must have mumbled their names in her delirium.

"I don't know why I did." Emily gave Geordie's ears a vigorous rub and he exhaled in contentment. "Actually his name is Geordie."

Evan screwed up his face. "Georgie?"

"Geordie," she gently corrected with a chuckle followed by a cough. "But you can call him Geo for short if you like."

The boys' eyes lit up. "Cool," Cole breathed. "Can we play with Geo?"

Emily took in their hopeful looks then remembered Greg had said Geordie hadn't left her side for three days. He could probably use some exercise and two little boys would definitely do it.

"Sure."

"Yay!" the boys cheered and rushed over to the other side of the bed. "C'mon, Geo. Lets go play."

Geordie looked from the excited boys to Emily with conflicted eyes. He didn't know what to do. His mistress needed him and he wasn't sure about the little humans. He didn't have much experience with their type, but they had said play. He knew that word and that meant chasing after a ball or his favorite toy. A soft whine escaped him. He hadn't played in a long, long time.

She saw Geordie's indecision and gave him a gentle shove. "Go. Play ball," she ordered. "I'm okay." Emily shoved him harder.

Taking that as permission to leave, Geordie hopped off the bed and headed out of the room with the boys crowded around him. Emily rested her head against the pillows and smiled as she listened to the trio clatter down a flight of stairs, pound across a floor and slammed a door behind them.

When silence descended on the house, Emily threw back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. It was time for a bathroom break. Just before she attempted to stand after three solid days in bed, Emily noticed something odd about the pajamas she was wearing. They fit. Looking closer, she realized they were her pajamas and not the pair Greg loaned her.

A flush came to her cheeks that had nothing to do with the fever she had had. It was from the embarrassment that at some point during her illness Greg had seen her naked as a jaybird or very close to it. She knew she shouldn't be upset because it had to be done; she had probably been sweating profusely from the fever. But it still felt that it was a bit of a violation.

A small, shy smile came to Emily's lips. "I wonder if he liked what he saw?" Then she smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Geez, Emily, get your mind out of the gutter. Greg was just being a Good Samaritan. He took care of me the same way he would have for his sons."

Emily decided to blame that inappropriate thought on the fever. She shoved it into the back of her mind and focused on standing up. She took a deep breath and pushed herself to her feet and stood swaying slightly, thrilled that her knees hadn't buckled and that the room wasn't spinning uncontrollably. Putting on the robe she found at the foot of the bed, she staggered off on wobbly legs in search of the ladies room.

* * *

Greg ran into her in the hallway slowly making her way back to her bedroom. Emily was exhausted. The short distance between the two rooms had sapped what little energy she had. She was more than ready to crawl back into bed and sleep for a week. The flu was kicking her butt.

"Emily! What are you doing out of bed?" he asked in concern, rushing to her side.

His outburst startled her and she turned to him with a tired smile. "Bathroom break," she explained.

"You should have called for me. I would have helped you."

She resumed walking. "I'm a big girl. I know how to use the bathroom without assistance."

"Be that as it may…"

Another coughing fit hit, forcing Emily to stop again and place her hand on the wall to stay upright. Her legs were getting weaker by the minute. Greg hovered at her side with an anxious look, ready to catch her if she decided to faint.

"Let me help you back to bed," he suggested as he went to wrap a supportive arm around her waist.

Emily coughed one more time, cleared her throat, and then held up her free hand to forestall him. "I'm good. Thanks for the offer."

"Okay," he agreed and backed away to give her space.

She nodded her thanks and limped off in the direction of her bedroom Greg right behind her. He noticed as she walked, that she kept one hand on the wall to maintain her balance.

"I bet you're feeling more comfortable in your own pajamas," he observed.

Emily blushed again at the thought that he had seen her in all her naked glory including all the scars she had accumulated over the years. "I am," she said lightly, hoping he would assume the redness of her cheeks was left over from the fever and not from embarrassment. "But how…"

"I retrieved your personal things, including your cane and cell phone, from your car before it was towed away," he said as they entered the bedroom.

He nodded to the open closet where the bags were lined up one the floor with the despised cane lying on top of them. The backpack containing all of Geordie's stuff was open, his bowls set out in front of it.

"I'm so glad Doc Barnes' wife stopped by," he continued. "She's a registered nurse and she's the one who changed your pajamas. She even showed me how to change the sheets on the bed with you still in it."

 _Oh, thank god_ , Emily thought with a mental sigh of relief as she stopped by the bed. _Now you have nothing to be embarrassed about._ Then it occurred to her that she had to have been sweating profusely from the high fever.

"That's good." Emily felt the flush returning to her cheeks.

"Can you see me trying to change your pajamas with my eyes closed tight?" Greg asked with a laugh.

"I probably would have woken up with my top on backwards," Emily joked as she shrugged off the robe and sank gratefully onto the mattress. Her legs felt like they were ready to collapse.

"Probably or both legs down the same pant leg."

"Right."

He politely held the covers up so that she could easily slip back into bed. As he tucked Emily in, ignoring her protests, he took in the nasty bruise on her left temple from hitting her head on the car frame, the red nose and the tired eyes. She was beautiful and he had trouble keeping his eyes off of her.

He waited until she was settled and reclining against the fluffed up pillows to ask, "I came up to see if you might be hungry."

At the thought of food, Emily's stomach rumbled loudly, expressing its displeasure at not being fed for close to four days. She smiled sheepishly. "I guess I am.'

"Great. That means you're getting better. I'll go rustle you up something."

"A burger and a milkshake?" she asked hopefully.

Greg paused in the doorway and gave her a mock disapproving look. "Nice try. But lets try something lighter first and see if you can keep it down before we move on to the heavier stuff."

"Okay," she conceded.

"Be back soon," he said and disappeared.

Emily sank deeper into the pillows with a sigh and lazily ran her fingers through her hair. She made a face. _I really need a shower_ , she decided and planned on taking a hot one after she ate. The steam would help to clean out her sinuses. That was her last cognizant thought. The next thing she knew, Greg was back carrying a breakfast tray.

"I thought we could compromise," he said as he placed the tray over her lap. "Chicken noodle soup and a chocolate milkshake instead of the Gatorade I was planning on giving you. I thought something cool would feel good on your sore throat."

"It will. Thanks," she said and reached for the drink. She took a long sip and let out an appreciative sigh as it slid down her throat. It felt really good.

Greg settled in the armchair, thinking she would like some human company for a change. He glanced at the empty space on the bed and frowned.

"Where's your dog?" he asked, finally noticing that Geordie was missing.

Emily paused in devouring the soup long enough to say, "Geordie should be outside playing with your sons."

"Really?" he said, he hadn't seen them out in the yard. Maybe they were down by the stable. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "They didn't disturb you, did they? Because I clearly told those two to leave you alone and wait for you to wake before asking for permission."

"They didn't," Emily lied, not wanting to get the boys in trouble for simply talking too loud.

Greg ran a hand over his head. "What a relief," he sighed. "I didn't want to have to scold them again for being in your room when I told them to stay out."

She polished off the last of the soup and turned her attention to the half finished milkshake. "Again?" she repeated, arching a curious eyebrow as she took a sip.

"Yeah," he said with a chuckle. "They've been trying to get Geordie to play with them, but he wouldn't budge. Earlier they had tried to lure him out with a hot dog."

"Clever." She vaguely remembered hearing something about hot dogs.

"Then you foiled their plan by waking up in the middle of it and sending them running."

She also remembered one of them shouting at the top of his lungs that she was awake; having a feeling it was Evan. "My bad," she chuckled unrepentantly, earning a grin from Greg. She set the empty glass on the tray.

"Are you finished?" he asked and stood up to remove the tray when she nodded.

Emily unsuccessfully tried to stifle a yawn. Between the jaunt to the bathroom and her now full, content stomach, she was ready to take a nap. The shower she had planned could wait a couple of hours. But there was a question she had to ask before she tripped off to dreamland.

She nestled deeper under the covers. "So was is the verdict? Is my car is a total loss?"

"My brother Ken doesn't think so. He said it is repairable, but it's going to take at least a good month. He's going to have to order most of the parts."

She sighed. It was going to cost a fortune to fix it. Maybe she should write it off and get another car. "I see."

Greg saw the disappointment in her brown eyes and rushed to reassure her. "He's giving you the family discount since you're stuck with me and my two potential dog thieves. You only have to pay for the parts. The labor is free."

"I can't accept that," Emily said with a shake of her head. She wasn't a charity case.

He stood his ground. "You will for now," he said firmly, brooking no argument. "We'll revisit this later when you're not about to fall asleep."

"We definitely will and you're going to lose," she declared.

Greg couldn't help but chuckle at her stubbornness. It was endearing. "Before I go, is there anything else I can do for you?"

Emily took a minute to mull over his question and then shook her head. "No, I think I'm good."

Okay," he agreed and moved to the door with the tray. "But if you change your mind, just give a yell. I'll come running. Get some rest, Emily. I'll check on you a little later."

"I will, Greg," she said with a huge yawn. "Thanks for everything you've done for me so far."

"You are quite welcome," he said and closed the door behind him, but leaving it open a crack so that Geordie could get back in when he was done with the boys.

Emily rolled on to her side to gaze out the window. The good news was that her car hadn't been totaled. The bad news was that it would take at least a month or longer for the repairs and she would be stuck here until then. And at the moment she had no clue where here exactly was. All she knew for sure was that she was in a house in Wisconsin.

Thinking of the house made her thoughts wander on to Greg. He seemed like a decent enough guy. How many men would take a sick woman and her dog into his home and attempt to nurse her back to health? Not many she imagined. Her eyes began to drift closed and she smiled dreamily. Greg was kind, a father, had a nice smile and warm blue eyes. Emily remembered saying to JJ, what seemed like decades ago, that she had taken the last viable donor. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe.


	12. Chapter 12

Emily walked into the living room and smiled at the scene in front of her. Cole and Evan were sprawled on the floor watching a cartoon and lying between them frog style was Geordie. What made it so adorable was that both boys had one arm draped over the dog.

"Guys? Do you know where your father is?"

Evan glanced over his shoulder. "Daddy's at the clinic."

"Want us to show you where it is, Miss Emily?" Cole asked, looking like he really didn't want to. The cartoon was more interesting than acting as a tour guide.

"No thanks, Cole. I think I can find it," she said with a chuckle. "You two keep watching."

"Okay," they said in unison, turning their attention back to the show.

Geordie started to get up to join her, but Emily held up her hand to stop him. "Stay," she commanded. The boys were enjoying his company. He settled back down and like the boys, turned his head to the television like he was actually watching it.

Chuckling, Emily retreated to the hallway and sat down on the bench set near the front door to put on her boots. While she had been laid up with the flu, the boys kept Geordie busy and he soaked up all the attention. Geordie found out the little humans made great playmates. They had boundless energy like he did, playing and running around for hours on end until they collapsed from exhaustion. His mistress couldn't run like that, but that was okay with him. He preferred their lazy walks and cuddling with her in the evenings.

Standing up, she took her jacket off the peg and zipped it up to her chin. Then she donned her knit hat and gloves. Emily stepped through the door and paused on the porch, inhaling the crisp winter air and gazing at the white covered scenery. This was the first time since being laid low by the flu that she was outside. The first week in residence she spent in bed, only getting up to use the bathroom. Feeling stronger, she spent the second week down in the living room on the couch with a blanket draped over her legs and Evan entertaining her. They played board games, video games and watch cartoons while Cole was in school. As so as he got home, he joined in on the fun. Since he had a business to run, Greg would check in on her between clients.

Tightening her grip on her cane, Emily carefully negotiated the three porch steps and limped down the driveway to the clinic, eyes scanning for any ice patches. The cold and the week of bed rest caused her bad leg to stiffen up, forcing her to use the hated cane to get around for the time being. She already resumed doing her physical therapy exercises so the stiffness was only temporary…or so she hoped. She was surprised to find out Greg's vet clinic was located at the foot of the driveway. In the falling snow that night, she had totally missed it. So much for her great powers of observation, she thought ruefully.

Stepping inside, Emily learned from the sole employee manning the desk that Greg was out in the stables. The doors were open when she got there so she entered. Emily was about to call out Greg' name when something caught her attention. Standing patiently its head hanging over the nylon stall guard was an appaloosa gelding. His mane, tail and legs were midnight black except for the two white socks on his right front and hind left legs. His head was also black with an irregular shaped white star on his forehead. The rest of his body was snow white and splattered with large black spots. He was breathtaking and she found herself smitten with him.

"Why hello to you, Handsome," Emily said with an appreciative smile as she stepped up to him and ran her hand over the star and down to his velvety nose.

He nickered softly as he lipped her open hand making her chuckle. "I'm sorry I don't have a treat for you. I'll bring one next time," she promised. He bobbed his head in agreement.

"He's a big mooch," Greg said, poking his head out of one of the stalls.

Emily stifled a laugh. Greg was decked out in rubber boots, plastic apron, gloves up to his elbows and a clear face shield. "That's quite the outfit you have on."

He looked down at himself and grinned. "I'm treating a sick llama and they love to spit, especially when they're not feeling good."

"You have llamas here?"

"A few. They're quite effective in guarding flocks of sheep."

"I didn't know that."

"Now you do."

The horse nudged her in the arm. "I haven't forgotten you, handsome. Is he a black leopard?"

His eyes lit up in delight that she knew what patterns appaloosas came in. "He is. Do you like horses?"

Emily moved to scratching the gelding under the chin. "I do. I use to ride when I was a kid."

"Did you ride for pleasure or compete?"

"Competed. I started with show jumping then switched to eventing as a teenager."

Greg' admiration for Emily went up another notch. Not only was she beautiful and smart, but also she was a horse lover and someone who obviously loved a challenge. Eventing wasn't easy; it took a lot of time and dedication to master all three disciplines. He stopped on the other side of the gelding and patted its neck.

"If you don't mind me asking, were you any good?"

She looked down and blushed slightly, not one who normally boasted about her accomplishments. "I placed," she said modestly. "I was lucky Bogart excelled at show jumping and cross country because dressage wasn't our strongest suit."

He chuckled. "Didn't like sitting so still in the saddle? You preferred flying over the course at a gallop and hurtling over obstacles?"

"Yeah. He was a great horse," Emily said wistfully, thinking back to those childhood days. Like school and reading, riding had been an escape from her troubled home life. "I miss it."

He stopped on the other side of the gelding and petted his neck fondly. "Renegade here isn't ready for riding yet. That won't happen for a couple of months."

"Why not?"

"When he was rescued from a farm in the next county, he was nothing but skin and bones. He's filled out nicely, but he still has a way to go."

"You poor boy," Emily cooed to the horse. "Are you going to keep him or find him a new home?"

"I would love to keep him, but I already have a horse and two ponies for me and the boys. Would you be interested?"

Emily laughed. "Maybe if he was a miniature horse because as of right now, he's not going to fit in the backseat of my car."

"Most definitely not. But in the meantime, do you still know your way around a grooming caddy?" he asked.

"I do. Why?" Emily asked with a frown.

"Well I was thinking that if you felt up to it you could groom the horses while I finish up with Larry the Llama and muck out the stalls. It would save me a lot of time." Greg looked hopeful.

"Sure," she immediately agreed with a nod.

"Great," he said with a grin, thrilled that she was going to stick around and help. "The caddy is right over there on the hay bales."

"Got it."

Greg picked up the shovel and hefted it over one shoulder. "Have fun."

"I will." Emily waited for him to disappear into the stall before selecting the currycomb and started to groom Renegade.

* * *

Between the two of them it took less than two hours to take care for the llama, two appaloosas and two bay ponies. As she was grooming Pippin Emily had asked why the ponies weren't appys like the rest, Greg explained that he didn't need to hear the boys constantly bickering over which one had more spots. She laughed at that since she has learned over the passing days that bickering was one of their favorite pastimes. They stepped out into the afternoon sun and headed back to the house to make lunch. Greg discretely shortened his stride to match her limping one.

"Thanks for the help," Greg said, breaking the silence.

"You're welcome. I had fun," Emily said with a small smile. "It's been awhile since I groomed a horse. Let alone four of them."

"I'm glad. You did a good job."

She nodded at the compliment and the two fell quiet again. Emily took a few more steps before stopping and turning to him. "Greg, there was a reason I came out to the clinic looking for you." She took a deep breath. "I feel like I have imposed on your hospitality long enough. Could you drop me off in town at the motel? I'll stay there until my car is fixed."

He stumbled to a halted. "You're not imposing at all. The boys and I are enjoying your company."

"And so do I," she admitted. "But I can't keep accepting your charity and that also goes for the repairs to my car."

Greg stared off into the distance. He didn't want Emily to leave. There was something unique about her, besides her gorgeous dark brown eyes, and he wanted to get to know her better. He hadn't been this intrigued by a woman since the day he had met his late wife. There had to be a way to get her to stay, but at the moment he couldn't come up with a good one.

"Okay," he agreed with great reluctance, "but I can't do it until the clinic is closed."

"That works fine for me. That will give me time to pack, clean the room and pry Geordie away from the boys."

"You don't have to clean the room."

"Yes, I do. I need to return it to you in the same condition I found it in."

Greg saw the stubborn set of her jaw and knew it was useless to continue arguing with her. "The boys are going to miss you," he said instead.

"And I'm going to miss them," Emily admitted. "It's been a while since I've hung out with small children."

During the past two weeks, Emily didn't talk about herself and the life she was living before being stranded here. But every now and then she would let a tidbit slip, like right now. Greg was curious to know more about it, but he respected her right to privacy and refrained from pressing further.

"I hope they weren't overwhelming, especially when they were hatching one of their unsuccessful schemes?"

"Not at all. I found it quite interesting to see what they came up with."

"Then there's still hope for them?" he asked with a smirk.

"I would say so," Emily agreed as they stepped inside to break the news to the boys.

Just as Greg promised, he drove Emily and Geordie into town and to a bed and breakfast that accepted dogs. The boys didn't want her to leave and did their best to convince her to stay. As tempting as it was, Emily stuck to her guns. The only concession was that she wouldn't leave until after dinner so that the boys could give her a proper goodbye. Greg insisted on carrying her bags to the front door where Emily thanked him again for everything he had done for her. He, in turn, gave her one of his business cards with his personal numbers jotted on the back, telling her to call if she ever needed anything. With the card still in hand, she stood on the porch and watched him drive away. Too bad she wasn't ready for any kind of relationship because Greg was a nice guy with those warm blue eyes.

* * *

A phone call in the morning revealed that her car wouldn't be ready for another two weeks so Emily and Geordie spent the time exploring Camden from end to end. It was a quaint and quiet little town. If you wanted a rural place to settle down, this was the perfect spot. It wasn't so small that you would miss it if you blinked or sneezed. It has a healthy population of ten thousand and a thriving downtown. Unlike many small towns that were on the verge of dying, there were very few empty storefronts. Even though the woods were like her second home, deep down Emily was still a city girl.

There was one business that Emily returned to time after time. It was a rundown used bookstore simply called Caron's books. Its proprietor was a rotund man in his late seventies with a mane of thick white hair and his equally rotund cat. They went by the names of Charles and Sid. Charles was gruff and a man of few words, but once he discovered she was fluent in French, he was a chatterbox. It turned out he was a native of France and lived through the Nazi occupation of France as a child before immigrating to America after the war.

Emily spent hours wandering among the stacks. Books were shelved with no rhyme or reason so it felt like she was on a treasure hunt. She took up the challenge and found some nice hidden gems. Charles let her bring Geordie in and they quickly found out that he was afraid of cats. All Sid had to do was to puff out his hair and hiss once to send the dog scrambling for protection behind Emily's legs. From this place of safety Geordie would bark at the fat cat as Sid ignored him and groomed his tail.

The two weeks flew by and the next thing she knew, her car was ready to go. And so was Emily. She enjoyed her time in Camden, even the time spent laid up by the flu, but it was time for her to move on. She climbed into her car that looked like it never had an encounter with a deer and drove back to the B&B. There she loaded her bags and Geordie and headed off on her next adventure.

* * *

Emily couldn't pinpoint why or what exactly it was that was bothering her, but she was not having an easy time. She felt emotional and overwhelmed for no reason at all. Nothing was helping. Not the journaling, not the dog, not even thinking happy thoughts. And she didn't know why, which was, perhaps, the biggest problem.

She just… She didn't know what to do about it. How was she supposed to solve a problem when she didn't know what the problem was?

It was the middle of the night, she was tired, she was frustrated, and all she wanted to do was sleep. But she couldn't. Sleep was the furthest thing from possible at that moment, but all she wanted.

"Ugh," she cried out, frustrated and throwing her pillow to the floor, making Geordie jump. She sat up with a pout and looked at him. "I'm sorry, G-Man," she said.

He just hopped off the bed and plopped down on the far end of her room and went back to sleep.

"Yeah, I'd want away from me too," she muttered.

She got up and paced the room. She tried watching TV and listening to music. But nothing helped.

Finally, it got too much. She gave in. She looked for her phone and called the number that she swore she never would.

 _"Hello?"_ The groggy voice answered.

"Allison? Dr. Fielding?"

 _"Emily?"_ she asked, and that was when Emily realized how desperate her voice must've sounded because, all of a sudden, Allison was alert, all remnants of sleep missing from her voice. _"Are you ok?"_

"Yes. No… I… I'm having a bad day… night." She looked at the clock before settling on, "morning."

 _"What's going on?"_

"I don't know. I just want to sleep. Please help me sleep."

 _"Emily. Where are you right now?"_

"A hotel in Mankota, Minnesota."

 _"Are you alone?"_

"I have Geordie with me."

 _"Geordie?"_

"My dog."

 _"Any people?"_

"Are you worried about me? Should I be worried?"

 _"Take a breath, Emily."_

She tried. It wasn't helping. She tried explaining that to Allison. Nothing was helping, and she wasn't sure what was wrong.

 _"Did something happen today?"_

"No," was all Emily could say. Nothing happened.

All she did was take Geordie to a local park that she saw when she was driving to the hotel. He needed some exercise, and she needed some air, so it was perfect. After, though, everything went to hell.

 _"Talk me through what you did at the park. Start from how you got there,"_ Allison directed.

So, Emily did. She explained that it wasn't far from where they were staying. She put Geordie on his leash, grabbed them a bottle of water, and went on a nice little walk. When they got to the park, they found a nice spot to sit down at and people watch. Geordie had his toy alligator, so they played a bit, too.

 _"There was a family there, with a dog. Playing."_

Allison wanted to directly question why that particular detail was of relevance. She was sure there were a few families there, but she wanted Emily to work it out on her own, just using her as a sounding board.

 _"Tell me about the family."_

"There were three kids. Three happy, healthy kids playing with their dog."

Allison listened as Emily went into a few details about their presumed ages and looks. She went on to talk about other things, following the original task, but she always circled back to the family. Allison needed Emily to be aware of that.

 _"Emily, you keep going back to the kids and the family. Why is this family so important to you?  
_  
"I don't know," Emily admitted.

 _"Think about it."_

She did, but she didn't want to admit that they were the cause of her little… breakdown.

"I guess… I guess they remind me of them."

 _"Of who?"_

"Of the kids that got killed on the case… The ones that I could have saved."

 _"Emily, you know that what happened was not your fault."_

"I know…" She was trying to know that anyway. "But they were just kids. They're never going to play with a dog or be a family again. They're just… They're gone."

Hearing Emily get worked up again, going back to old patterns the more she talked, Allison tried to calm her down. They went through a mantra together to try to help Emily, even if just temporarily, feel like it wasn't her fault. What happened was terrible, but thinking about the what ifs and blame aside for the man who actually killed them was useless.

 _"Are you feeling okay, now?"_

"Better, I guess."

 _"It's late, Emily, and I think you could use some sleep."_

"Yes," she agreed.

 _"I'm glad you called me,"_ Allison said. _"You can always call if you need to."_

"Thank you. And thanks for your help."

 _"Let me help a little more. I don't think you'll fall asleep on your own. Can you put me on speaker?"  
_  
"Sure," Emily said, pressing a button on the phone.

 _"Okay. I'm going to take you through some breathing exercises. I'll talk to you, just leave me on speaker, and don't worry about anything. Okay?"  
_  
"Okay."

Allison guided Emily through deep breathing and relaxation techniques that they had previously went over. There would be plenty to talk about the next time Emily called or, if she didn't, when Allison called her back to check in. For now, it was just about helping Emily relax.

 _"Deep breath. In through your mouth. Now hold."_ Allison counted down. _"Exhale through your nose." Again, a count down. "Good."  
_  
They repeated it a few times before Emily's breathing became slow and her response nonexistent.

 _"Emily?"_ Allison tested.

No answer.

 _"Emily?"_ she tried again for good measure.

Still nothing.

Allison smiled, hung up the phone, and thought that Emily was stronger and in a better place than she knew. She was going to be just fine.

And Emily, though she wasn't as sure about that, at least slept peacefully the rest of the morning, well into the later hours until Geordie let her know that he needed a bathroom break, maybe some food, too, and she needed to help him out with that.


	13. Chapter 13

"Yo, Em! Can I buy you a drink?"

Emily looked up from the glass she was washing and down to the three white haired men grinning at her from the end of the bar. She returned the smile. "No, you can't, Walt."

"What did she say?" Fred asked his drinking buddies.

"She said no," Harry hollered back and Fred nodded.

"Not allowed to drink while working?" Walt asked with a wink.

"I don't drink," she said, setting the glass to one side and picking up another.

"She wants a mink?" Fred asked in disbelief. "That's ballsy of her."

Harry sighed. "She said she doesn't drink!" he shouted.

"Oh," Fred's face fell in disappointment. "Pity."

Walt ignored his companions. "Not a drop?" he asked with wide eyes.

Emily shook her head with a smile. "Not a drop."

He leaned his elbows on the bar. "Are you one of them recovering drunks?" he asked in curiosity.

"Did he say she looks like a punk?" Fred asked in confusion. "Because I strongly disagree. I think she's pretty." Emily chuckled at the compliment and shook her head in amusement.

Larry rolled his eyes. "Jeez, Fred, I think you need a new battery for your hearing aid.

Fred took off his hearing aid and banged it on the bar. "I think I need a new battery for my hearing aid."

Everyone within hearing broke into a round of laughter while poor Fred looked around in puzzlement, wondering what he said that was so funny. Emily wiped away the tear trickling down her cheek, trying to recall the last time she has laughed so hard. _Oh yeah. It was that time Reid ended up wrestling in the mud with that woman suspect and Derek wading in to separate them, only to have his legs swept out from under him and ending up with a face full of mud._ She had taken plenty of pictures and teased both unmercifully for a solid week after.

"No," she said with a soft chuckle. "I'm not an alcoholic. I just don't want to anymore." After she had left DC she was afraid that if she drank one glass of alcohol to help her forget she would never stop and she didn't want to die that way.

Walt nodded thoughtfully while Fred continued to tinker with his hearing aid. "I see. Then if you don't drink, why are you working in a bar?"

She dunked another glass into the soapy water and gave him a sweet smile. "Because I like being hit on by three eighty year old men."

He raised his half empty beer glass in salute. "Well said, Emily of the Sad Eyes."

Emily winced at the nickname. She hated it even though it was true. These days her smile rarely reached her eyes. She was having one of her down months. With a resigned sigh, she turned her attention back to the dirty glasses. Walt was having too much fun chatting her up to stop. "If I can't buy you a drink, can I buy one for your pooch?"

She glanced over at Geordie who was curled up, tail over nose, on a mat just outside the bar. At first, he had wanted to hang out with her behind the bar. But after tripping over him a half dozen times, she kicked him out. Eyes still focused on her washing, she said, "Sure, but I must warn you that Geordie can't hold his liquor. There is a good chance that he would throw up on you and dog vomit is a lot nastier than people vomit."

Walt looked at Geordie who chose, that instant, to let out a very loud snore. "I'll take that under advisement." He threw back his head and downed the last of his beer. He set the mug down with a satisfied thud and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Since you and the dog are out, can I buy myself and my buds another round?"

"You can," she said with a smile. Emily dried off her hands, limped to the tap and poured them three more beers. Then with a flick of her wrist, slid the drinks down the bar, much to the old men's delight. Luckily they were all caught by nimble, gnarled hands.

"You sure know how to serve us in style," Harry, aka Romeo number two, observed as he took a sip.

"I try," she said modestly and returned to her glass washing.

Walt leaned further over the bar to watch her walk back. "You ever going to tell us how you got that limp?"

"No," she replied curtly.

Walt, realizing he had just been rebuffed, wisely dropped the subject and focused on his beer. Emily resumed washing, a bit more intense than before.

"Hey, Em," Steve, the bar owner said, rolling up with a dolly loaded with two fresh kegs.

"Hey," she said in a flat voice.

He paused, took in her tense back and glanced down the bar at the three old men. He wanted to touch her on the shoulder and ask her what was wrong, but the first time he had tried, it was also the last. One moment he had been standing. The next he was on his knees with his arm twisted painfully behind his back. Emily had apologized profusely, but he learned that night she was a woman who didn't like to be touched.

"Are The Romeos giving you any trouble?" he asked.

She smiled and let the tension in her shoulders ease. "Not at all. They're still adorable and ornery as always."

"Did she just say we're deplorable and horny?" Fred asked the room in general.

Steve chuckled. "I take it Fred's hearing aid is still on the blink?"

"It is," she said with a chuckle of her own. She helped him with the full and empty kegs before heading down to the end of the bar to retrieve the empty mugs from The Romeos so that she could wash them. Steve followed and struck up a conversation with the old men.

With them suitably distracted, Emily focused her full attention on the task at hand, blocking out everything else going on around her. She quickly fell into a rhythm: wash then dry, wash then dry. She didn't hear Larry's request for the television to be turned on nor did she pay any attention to what was being aired. To Emily, it was all unimportant background noise.

It was only when she was done that she noticed that the tv was turned to a local newscast. Emily looked up just in time for the anchor to segue into a report on a rash of home invasions, the last resulting in the deaths of the homeowners. She frowned at the screen in puzzlement, mentally scratching her head. _Why did that sound so familiar?_

"Em, what's wrong?" Steve asked as he approached her, noting the look on her face.

Emily blinked. "Huh?" she said dumbly, tearing her eyes from the screen.

"I asked you what's wrong. You were frowning at the tv like it had just offended you."

"Oh. Nothing really, Steve," she answered, schooling her face into a look of sadness. "I was just thinking about that poor couple that was killed."

"Okay," he said, giving her a look that said he didn't quite believe her. But he let the subject drop. He has also learned that you couldn't push her to talk if she didn't want to. But, then Emily rarely spoke, and, when she did, it was only to answer questions directed at her. Thinking back over the past six weeks, he never saw her initiate a conversation. His quiet bartender was a loner through and through.

She breathed a mental sigh of relief when he rejoined The Romeos. Grabbing the nearest towel, she began wiping down the bar while she wracked her brain trying to figure out why that news report rang a bell with her. It wasn't until she and Geordie returned to the motel after her shift was over that she remembered reading online about something very similar occurring in another part of the state.

Emily made herself comfortable on the bed and turned on her iPad. It didn't take long to find the article. Three weeks ago Kirksville was plagued by a series of home invasions perpetrated while the homeowners were present. They were unharmed and the brazen burglars only took valuables that were easy to carry. Emily sighed as she dropped the iPad in her lap and let her gaze drift to the ceiling.

The home invasions in Kirksville and here have similar MO's except for the murders. Another sticking point was that Kirksville was over a hundred miles to the north. That's a long way to drive just to rob a house. It all could be just a coincidence, but her gut was telling her there was more to it than what meets the eye and she didn't know what to do about it. She was no longer an active agent so she just couldn't poke her nose in where it didn't belong. But she was a concerned citizen, wasn't she?

* * *

Hotch was almost out of his office when the phone on his desk rang. He paused in the doorway staring at the instrument, debating if he should answer it or let it go to voicemail. It's been a frustrating week and all he wanted to do was to go home and spend some quality time with Jack. But at the same time it could be someone who really needed their help. Hotch sighed, dropped his briefcase in the nearest chair and snatched up the handset.

"This is Agent Hotchner."

The voice on the other end of the line identified himself as Chief of Police Lloyd Yarnold from Jefferson City, Missouri. He then launched into the reason he was calling. As he continued to describe what was going on in his city, Hotch was beginning to wonder why the man was calling. The case didn't sound like one the BAU normally handled. He was about to point that out when the Police Chief said something that stopped him in his tracks.

 _"I wasn't going to call,"_ Yarnold admitted, _"but your agent was very persuasive."_

Hotch frowned into the phone. "What agent?"

There was a rustle of paper. _"A Emily Prentiss."_

He blinked in surprise. He had been expecting Yarnold to rattle off the name of some agent from the local field office, not Emily's. Several thoughts crossed his mind in rapid succession. The first was what Emily has gotten herself into. The second was more worrisome. Was Emily involved somehow and she might be in trouble? Unfortunately she has a knack for that. The last thought was more out of curiosity. How long has Emily been in Missouri? The last he heard she was still exploring Minnesota.

"Emily Prentiss?" he repeated just to make sure he has heard correctly.

 _"Yes."_ Yarnold's voice filled with doubt, wondering if he has made a mistake listening to this woman and calling. _"Is there something wrong with her?"_

"Oh. No, nothing like that. I was just surprised to hear her name. Agent Prentiss is currently on a leave of absence while she recovers from an injury sustained in the line of duty."

 _"That's what your agent told me. She kept insisting that she wasn't here in any official capacity, but only as a concerned citizen."_

Hotch was pleased to hear that. It wouldn't look good to have an agent inviting herself on a case when she was on a leave of absence. "That's good to know."

 _"Do you think she's on to something? That there might be a serial killer in my city?"_

"I trust Agent Prentiss' judgment. Could you send me everything you have? I would like to review this with my team before we arrive."

 _"It will be on its way shortly."_

"Thank you, Chief. We'll be there first thing in the morning."

 _"I really appreciate this, Agent Hotchner. I'll see you then,"_ Yarnold said and hung up.

Hotch stared at the dead handset for a moment before gently placing it back it the cradle. Then he fished his cell phone out of his suit jacket pocket and sent out a mass text recalling everyone. As an afterthought he sent out a second text, a little unsure how it would be received.

He had everything ready when everyone returned; smiling softly as he listened to the good-natured grumbling about cancelled or delayed plans. As they reviewed the case, a few expressed their doubts that it fell under their purview until Hotch revealed Emily's involvement. The doubters quickly changed their opinions, knowing Emily wouldn't have made the suggestion if she didn't firmly believe something was amiss. They trusted her gut feeling. Penelope insisted on coming along because there was no way in hell she was going to pass up the opportunity to see Emily. Hotch didn't object, knowing she missed her friend.

* * *

Over nine hundred miles away, Emily was on her break when the second text Hotch sent hit her phone. She was sitting out back enjoying the night air while Geordie explored, checking out the latest scents. Unlocking the phone, she stared in shock at the screen.

 _"Be at the police station at nine sharp. Hotch."_

"Shit!" she swore loudly.

It was good to see that Police Chief Yarnold had taken her advice and contacted the BAU. But he apparently ignored her suggestion of not mentioning her name and now it seemed she was in deep doodoo with Hotch. Now she can look forward to a lecture about meddling while on leave. She hated them; always feeling like a naughty four-year-old when it was over. When she had walked out of the police station, the little voice in the back of her mind whispered that this was going to come back and bit her in the ass. It looks like it has.

Her sudden outburst brought Geordie up short. Letting out a soft whine, he trotted back to his mistress and stood on his hind legs, resting his front paws on her damaged thigh. He gazed at her with concerned eyes as his tail wagged in a lazy circle.

Emily stroked his head. "Your momma is in trouble with the big honcho," she explained with a sigh.

Her phone pinged, announcing the arrival of another text message. Two texts within five minutes wasn't good, especially since she couldn't recall the last time she got one. She didn't want to look, but she knew she had to. A knot of dread settled in her stomach as she opened it.

 _"Relax. You're not in trouble."_

"And it seems Hotch has developed the ability to read minds halfway across the country," she observed with an amused shake of her head, showing Geordie the text message. He stared intently at the screen as if he was reading it.

A new batch of worries surfaced. If she wasn't in trouble for putting her nose where it didn't belong, then why did Hotch want to see her? Did he want her perspective on the rash of burglaries or has something come up in regards to her leave of absence? It was for a year and she was only eight months into it. Had Strauss somehow gotten involved and muddied the waters in an attempt to make the leave permanent? But that didn't make much sense. Strauss may not like her, the feeling was mutual, but when she had the opportunity to get rid of her after the Senate hearing, she offered her job back. So it probably wasn't that. Maybe it was just a wellness check. It made sense that Hotch would touch bases with her to see how she was doing while he was in town.

Emily huffed in frustration. All this thinking wasn't going to get her the answers she wanted. The only thing she was getting was a pounding headache behind the eyes. Instead of driving herself crazy for the rest of the night, she would just have to see what tomorrow has in store for her. In the meantime, it was time to get back to work. The Romeos were probably missing her, especially Fred since he finally got a new battery for his hearing aid.

* * *

At eight-thirty the next morning, Emily found herself standing in the shadows of a building across the street and few doors down from the police station with Geordie sitting on her foot. She hadn't planned on being this early. The excitement and worry about seeing the team again pretty much kept her up all night. At six she gave up on sleep and spent the next hour and a half finding the right outfit to wear. Emily couldn't believe how nervous she was. These were her friends she was meeting, not some blind date. She knew them and missed them. After watching his mistress try on five different combinations, Geordie got bored and went back to sleep. Fashion wasn't his cup of tea.

When she was finally satisfied with how she looked, Emily set about getting Geordie ready. Wanting to ensure that Geordie could follow her on any path her journey took her and realizing what a help he has been, Emily called Allison to talk about him becoming a service dog or something. She figured the good doctor would know more than Google. She did. Allison explained that becoming a service dog would require strict training, time and a lot of effort on both Emily's and Geordie's part, but there was an alternative. He could become an emotional support animal, which would allow him a lot of the same leeway that service animals had, but without the training. It was a simple process, and Allison was happy to help Emily with it.

While Allison handled all the required paperwork, Emily enrolled Geordie in obedience class. He wouldn't be any good to her as an emotional support dog if he didn't have any manners out in public. Geordie proved to be a quick learner. He would do anything, including selling his doggie soul to the devil, for a treat and wanted he wanted to please his mistress. The class strengthened the bond between them and they were now working on getting his Good Canine Citizen certificate. When out in public, Geordie proudly wore a vest that indicated what he was, but he always acted in private like Emily was torturing him every time she strapped it on.

The sound of engines approaching caught her attention and she watched two black government issued SUV's pull up in front of the police station. Instinctively Emily sank deeper into the shadows, not wanting to be seen just quite yet. The doors of the first SUV opened, disgorging its occupants. Dave, JJ, Reid and Hotch stepped out into the morning sunlight. She was happy to see there weren't any obvious changes in them. If there was, it was mainly cosmetic. Whereas JJ's hair had gotten shorter, Reid's has gotten longer. Dave had more silver at his temples and in his goatee. And Hotch looked like…well…like Hotch: the impeccable suit, the too tight tie, the perpetual frown and the neatly styled hair.

Emily's eyes turned to the second SUV. Penelope was the first one out. Emily was both pleased and surprised that she was here. Probably once she learned the team and Emily were going to be in the same time and most likely in the same room, a herd of wild horses couldn't have stopped her from hopping onto the jet. From the backseat a tall African American woman with short hair emerged. This was her replacement and Emily was hit with a stab of jealousy. It hadn't occurred to her that Hotch would fill her position, but it was the right thing to do. It would've been unreasonable for him to hold her position open while she struggled to figure out what she wanted and make the team work short handed. The feeling disappeared as she hoped the new addition was a good fit and wished her the best of luck.

Then Derek hopped out from behind the wheel and joined the rest gathered on the steps of the police station. The anger towards him she had thought had faded to disappointment, flared back to life, red hot as the day she last saw him. It was obvious she still hasn't forgiven him for his actions nor come to some form of understanding. At that moment Emily was tempted to turn around and walk away like she had eight months ago. But her friends, including Derek much to her chagrin, were looking forward to seeing her after her long absence and she couldn't deny them that. She would just have to set her animosity to one side for the time being.

Emily waited for them to go inside before she sighed and looked down at the dog still sitting on her now asleep foot. Geordie gazed back up at her with eager eyes and tail thumping the ground and her leg.

"We can't stay out here all day so I guess we should just head inside and face the music. Just promise me you'll be on your best behavior and try not to hump anybody's leg."

Geordie shot her a look that said he'll do his best, but he couldn't guarantee anything. He was a dog after all and when you have to hump, you hump.


	14. Chapter 14

A deep breath in, Emily leaned back against the open doorway without anyone seeing her, and watched the people she missed most doing the work she missed being part of. She watched JJ, with the help of the African American woman, started putting the victims' images up onto the board. Reid sat the table, drawing up a geographic profile, even though, Emily was sure, he probably had that done within ten minutes on the plane ride here, and how Dave and Hotch looked deep in conversation. For a moment, it was like nothing had changed. She could easily slip into the conversation with Derek and Penelope and fit right in. It was nice to take it all in, but she had some mixed feelings. They functioned without her, and that hurt, but seeing them made her realize how much she was missing being a part of their circle. She took another moment to observe, but knowing she couldn't just watch all day, Emily made her presence known.

"What does a person have to do around here to get a hug or two?" she asked with a huge grin.

Seven heads swiveled in her direction, faces first showing surprise and then delight. Penelope was the first to react. She sprung from her chair as if fired from a gun and engulfed Emily in a smothering bone crushing hug.

"You're here! You're actually here," she gushed. "Please don't pinch me because I don't want to wake up and find out you were a figment of my imagination."

"I'm very much real, but I won't be if you don't ease up a little and let me breathe, Pen," she wheezed.

"Oh gosh, Em. I'm so so sorry," she apologized, releasing her. "I'm just so happy to see you."

"No harm done. My ribs are still intact."

Dave took the opportunity to cut in, cupped her face in his hands and gave her a peck on both cheeks. "Hey, Kiddo."

JJ, Reid and even Hotch, followed suit, telling her in their own ways that they were glad to see her again. Meanwhile, Derek hung back, standing off to one side so that he wouldn't get in the way of everyone's greetings.

"Emily," he said with a tentative smile, unsure of what her reaction to his presence was going to be. On the flight over, he hoped he was back in her good graces and they could be friends again.

The coolness in the way she said his name told him all he needed to know. Emily was still angry with him, but she surprised him by stepping up to him and embracing him. The hug was just as awkward as the one when they said goodbye all those months ago. Even though he was in the doghouse with her, it still felt good to be in her company. He missed their friendship.

"You're looking fine, Partner," he said. "The time away is looking good on you."

"It feels good too," Emily answered politely.

Hotch spoke up before the uneasiness between the two former friends could fill the conference room. "Emily, I would like you to meet Dr. Tara Lewis," he gestured to the African American woman. "She's a forensic psychologist who consults with us on occasion when we need more brain power."

So she's only a consultant and not a full-fledged member of the team. It made Emily feel better, but not by much. It meant she was still replaceable. Quelling the jealousy she was feeling, Emily held out her hand. "Emily Prentiss. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine," Tara replied with a smile as they shook hands. "I've heard nothing but good things about you."

"All lies or exaggerations," Emily said lightly, shrugging off the compliment.

"Is that Geordie?" Penelope exclaimed, finally noticing the dog sitting quietly at Emily's side. "He's so little and adorable."

Emily smiled like a proud pet parent she was. "It is and yes he is."

"I hope you don't mind that I got him a few things. Geordie, would you like to see what I brought you?" He wagged his tail, but remained where he was.

Emily sighed when she saw the size of the shopping bag the technical analyst retrieved from beneath the conference table. "A few things, Pen? It looks like you bought out half of the pet store." She should have known better that Penelope couldn't resist getting something for Geordie. It was sweet, but she did have a tendency to go overboard. Sergio was probably spoiled rotten by now.

"It's my prerogative as fairy godmother to kids and furry animals."

"I didn't know pets can have godparents," Reid said.

"They do in my book," Penelope retorted before turning her attention to the bag and piling its contents on the table. "Lets see. Gourmet treats. A winter coat for snowy days. A slicker for the rainy ones. Dental chews to keep his pearly whites white. A good selection of toys all tested for squeakability. And finally his official FBI id badge."

She held up a badge that looked identical to the ones everyone was wearing. It had his picture, rank of SSA and his name as Geordie Prentiss. It also had a small lanyard so it could be hung around his neck.

Emily chuckled. "Do I assume correctly Sergio has one too?"

"He does. It wouldn't be right if his brother has one and he doesn't."

Derek couldn't help himself and peeked into the bag. "You sure you don't have the kitchen sink in here?"

Penelope spun on her high heels and smacked him on the arm. "You be quiet."

Grinning, he held up his hands up in surrender and backed away from the bag. Penelope glared daggers at him for a moment longer before picking up the toys and putting them on the floor.

"Here you go, Geordster. Have fun."

Geordie wanted to dive headfirst into the pile of new toys, but he was on duty. He wouldn't leave his mistress side until she released him. But it didn't stop him from looking up at her with imploring eyes.

Emily smiled down at him and dropped the leash. "Okay," she said with a nod.

He let out a happy yip and pounced on a yellow dog-shaped toy that was almost as long as he was.

As much as Hotch was happy to see Emily again, they couldn't stand around all day getting reacquainted. They had a job to do. He put on his serious face and cleared his throat. "There will be plenty of time to catch up with Emily' adventures later. We need to get to work."

There was a chorus of agreements as they all took their seats at the conference table. Derek pulled a chair out for Emily. She hesitated for a second and not wanting to be rude, she sat down and gave him a polite thank you nod. Derek smiled and sat opposite of her, leaving Penelope and Reid to claim seats on either side of her.

"Emily, why don't you fill us in on your suspicions," Hotch suggested, ignoring the squeaking coming from under Emily's chair and Geordie tried out all his new toys.

Emily slowly leaned her cane against the table, using the time to school her thoughts and get back into agent mode. It's been a long time since she thought like a profiler so she was bound to be a tad rusty. She tried to lay it out in a logical order.

"A little over three weeks ago, there was a series of home invasions in Kirksville. Two masked men would break into a home, tie up the homeowners and torment them as they robbed the place blind. They only took what was easy to pawn. As quickly as it started, it stopped."

"And then they showed up here," Dave said.

"Right. The mo's were similar up to the point where they killed the last couple."

"It could just be a coincidence," Tara suggested.

"That occurred to me too," Emily admitted. "It also didn't help that they would travel…"

"It would take approximately one hour and fifty-eight minutes to drive the one hundred and twenty-two miles between Kirksville and Jefferson City," Reid happily chimed in.

Emily smiled fondly at the young genius. She didn't realize until now how much she missed his ability to pull seemingly random facts and statistics out of thin air. "It seemed odd to me that they would drive all that way just to rob some homes."

"It could be a counter measure to hide where they live," JJ suggested. "They don't want to be robbing in their own backyard."

Hotch nodded thoughtfully. "I agree it is odd. What were you thinking?"

"I'm thinking there may be more home invasions between here and Kirksville. I just don't have the resources to check it out."

"But I do," Penelope said with a grin. She opened her laptop and started typing away.

Derek played with the pen in his hands. "I'm a little worried about the murders. Is it an escalation or a one time thing?"

"It's not a one time thing," Yarnold announced, stepping into the room. There was another robbery last night and the homeowners, James and Terri Ward, were stabbed to death."

"Damn," Derek swore.

"Alright," Hotch said. "Reid, JJ. You go to the first crime scene. Dave and Lewis, you take the latest. Morgan, head to the morgue."

Everyone nodded and headed of on their assignments, leaving Hotch, Emily and Penelope in the conference room. Hotch caught the technical analyst's eye and subtly indicated the door.

Penelope got the hint, gathering up her stuff. "I'm going to look for a quiet corner to work. I'll let you know when I find something."

Emily watched her leave before turning to her old boss. "That wasn't very subtle Hotch. Even I caught the look. Are we about to have a welfare check?"

"I thought it was better than telling Garcia to get out," he said with a small smile. "And yes it is. How are you doing, Emily?"

How am I doing? That was a loaded question, she thought wryly. How do I answer that when most of the time I have no clue how I'm doing. I'm just taking it one day at a time.

"I'm doing okay," she finally admitted. "I have my good days and bad days, but I think the good are starting to out number the bad."

"You think?"

Emily shrugged. "Some times it's hard to tell. All it takes is one little thing to push it either way."

"I know exactly what you mean." He's been where she's at many times after Haley's death. Just last month he had one of those bad days he warned her about that struck out of nowhere.

"It's nice when someone understands what's happening."

Emily inadvertently gave him an opening to a subject he was unsure of bringing it up without looking like he was prying. All right, he was prying, but he needed to verify her mental wellness, as her friend and not as her boss. "How's Allison?"

She studied him for a minute. "Hotch, is this another of your not too subtle way of trying to find out if I'm still seeing my therapist?"

He smiled. "Guilty as charged."

"Well, she's fine and I am. She told me to call her at any time, day or night, when I'm going through a rough patch. I've done it several times over the months."

"Good. I'm glad you're still talking with someone instead of trying to go it alone. But if you have some trouble reaching her, you can always call me. I may not be a trained therapist, but I am a good listener."

"Thanks. I might take you up on your offer…some day."

Some day. Those two words told Hotch everything he needed to know. Emily wasn't ready to come home. It would be a lie to say he wasn't disappointed. He was. He missed her. The BAU wasn't the same without her, but he wasn't going to put his needs before hers. Emily had to do what was best for her regardless of what others wanted. But at some point in the near future she was going to have to make a decision. Her leave of absence wasn't indefinite. She had to choose to either extend the leave, retired on disability, return to the BAU and a desk job or transfer to another department where her injury wouldn't be a disadvantage. Hotch made a mental note to remind everyone not to pester her about returning to the fold.

"So how long have you been in town?"

Emily hesitated. That was a good question. Sometimes she knew how long she stayed in a place down to the second, other times the days and weeks just blended into each other. This was one of those times. "Awhile," she said vaguely to cover up her lapse in memory.

Hotch nodded. "Been doing anything special?"

She shrugged and shifted uneasily in her seat. "Not really. Been working a lot."

"Oh?" he said, arching an eyebrow in surprise. It was hard picturing her as anything but an FBI agent. "Doing what?"

She met his eyes and said with a small smile. "Bartending."

"Really? You any good?" he lightly teased.

Emily laughed softly and Hotch felt his heart warm at the sound. He missed her laugh. "Actually I am. I was surprised how quickly I took to it."

"Maybe you were a bartender in a past life."

She laughed again. "Maybe."

"It's good to hear that you're trying on new hats to see which one fits the best."

"Nice metaphor, Hotch."

"Thanks. I've been saving that one for the right occasion."

Geordie chose that moment to pop up and drop a red shark wearing a pirate's hat in Emily's lap.

"I never took you for a dog lover," he observed as she squeaked the toy twice to get him excited before tossing it across the room.

"Me neither," she agreed, shaking her head at his silliness as he pounced on the toy and tried to kill it. "But it was love at first sight even if it took a couple of days to realize that."

The dog returned to drop the shark in her lap, but remained standing on his hind legs when Emily stroked his head.

"Geordie's been a godsend. He depends on me to take care of him. He gets me outside. Otherwise I might have let my depression smother me and leave me curled in a ball in some motel for months or a slave to the bottle. Maybe even both."

It was a relief to see she was acknowledging that she was suffering from depression, Hotch thought, remembering all the times she vehemently denied it even though it was clear as day to everyone else. It also made Hotch wonder if she was taking any medications for it, but he wasn't going to be nosy. That was between her and her therapist.

"So he's a warm, furry, toy toting, walking security blanket," he said, nodding at the service vest Geordie wore.

Emily ran her hand over it. "Yeah. Allison is the one who got him certified as an emotional support animal. He may not be able to go everywhere with me, but more doors are open to him than they would be if he was just a pet." Geordie let her scratch his ears one more time before going to try another toy. "I feel more centered and in control when he's around."

"Well, I'm glad you're not alone on your journey," he said.

"Me too," she agreed and they shared a smile.

* * *

Hotch was in the middle of setting up interviews with the survivors of the home invasions and Emily was arranging the murder boards when the team began to trickle in. He decided on holding off on hearing their reports until everyone returned so that they didn't waste time repeating themselves. The last to return was Penelope and she was the most excited.

"There's no rust on Emster's profiling skills," she announced proudly, plopping into the nearest empty chair with her laptop.

"You found something?" Emily asked, her dark brown eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Of course I did," she replied with a smirk. "Now if everyone will consult their tablets."

Since Emily didn't have one, Tara shared hers.

"Our wandering Raven Haired Warrior correctly deduced that there were additional home invasions between here and Kirksville that fit the M.O.. Two weeks ago there was one in Macon and two in Moberly. Last week they hit five times in Columbia."

"Why hit two towns in one week?" Tara asked. "All the other times they spent at least the whole week in one place."

"Macon has a population around 5400 and Moberly almost 14,000 while Columbia is will over 120,000," Reid happily expounded.

No one questioned or was surprised by his numbers. He was always right. They would have been more worried if he hadn't piped up.

"Multiple home invasions in a small town would have stuck out like a sore thumb so they quickly moved on," Derek said.

Dave got up to study the map Reid so lovingly pinned to one of the boards. He slowly ran a finger down it. "They're heading south along U.S. Highway 67 hitting random places as they go."

"So does that mean this is their home base or are they just passing through?" JJ posed.

"That's the question we need to figure out," Hotch said grimly.

* * *

They worked hard throughout the day and most of evening until Hotch called it a night and sent everyone back to their respective hotels. Although they were unable to identify their UnSubs, they did learn a great deal about them. The men were escalating. They had started off with simple burglaries until one homeowner came home early and caught them in the act. Once they found out how much fun it was to torment the owner, they began targeting houses that were occupied, preferably a couple since it was double the fun.

They were smart, targeting homes that were secluded, had no security system and no dog. They didn't leave behind any physical evidence like DNA or fingerprints, either wiping everything clean or wearing gloves. Everything that was stolen was easy to pawn and hard to trace. Wherever the stuff was pawned at, it wasn't in the same town they hit or they just hadn't gotten around to it yet.

The first murder was an accident. The police determined that the husband had freed himself and jumped one of them. A fight ensued, eventually resulting with the husband fatally stabbed. The wife was then killed since she was a witness. Possibly during the fight, the UnSub might have been unmasked. The team was worried now that the UnSubs have gotten their first taste of blood and seemed to enjoy it; they might abandon the robbery part and go straight for the killing. What they needed was for one or both to slip up, but it wasn't going to happen tonight. They needed to get some sleep and start fresh in the morning.

Derek and Hotch shared a look as the conference room was clearing. Derek was silently asking for some time with Emily, which Hotch readily granted, offering a nod of support. Once the room was practically empty, he tentatively approached Emily.

"How've you been?"

"Fine. Just like I told everyone."

"I heard what you said, but I'm asking again. How are you really?"

"I meant it." Emily paused in packing up all the goodies Geordie got from his Auntie Penelope. "I'm doing much better. Like you said earlier, I think this is what I needed."

"That's…that's good, Em," he said, trying to feel her out and see where he was on her hate meter. At the start of the day, he was pretty sure he was at the top of it.

"Yeah," she agreed, resuming her packing. "How are you?"

"Good. I'm good, too."

"Happy to hear that."

She hadn't spent much time looking at him, opting to keep her eyes on the toys instead of at him. He didn't miss it, and it made him lose some hope that her anger died down some since they last saw each other.

"Hey, Emily," he started before pausing, changing his mind about what he planned to ask.

"What?" she asked when he didn't continue.

"Can I walk you to your place?"

"No," she plainly said, not wanting him or the team to know where she was staying.

"Oh…" he dejectedly responded.

"But I can walk you to your hotel," she replied.

Derek brightened. "Really?"

"Really. I know this town better than you. It's a nice night out. I'll help you find where you're staying on foot."

"And we can talk?" he stated in question form.

"Well, silence would be little awkward. We need something to pass the time."

"Guess we do," he happily said. If nothing else, he was getting a chance to talk to her one on one. That made him hopeful again. "Lead the way."

They walked together, Geordie ranging ahead on the end of his leash. As they strolled, Derek couldn't help but look her over, assessing how she was physically. He was hoping for some magic fix, that, by some miracle, he would see her in perfect condition, free of pain both physical and mental. That wasn't exactly what he saw, but she did look better.

It wasn't completely awkward, but Derek had so much he wanted to ask and was at a loss at how to ask them. So he just observed. He observed her walk with its accompanying limp and the interactions she had with the dog. He observed the way she looked around, surveying the area, ever the profiler.

"You're staring," she said.

"Sorry."

"I've been telling you about random places we've past and I don't think you've heard one thing."

"I… did… not," he laughed. "Sorry. I'm just happy to see you."

"I'm not unhappy to see you."

"I'll take it. Does that mean…"

He paused and she stopped walking.

"Ask me," she said. "Ask me what you want to ask."

"Does that mean that you forgive me?" he asked, their eyes meeting.

Emily sighed. "I wish I could tell you what you want to hear."

His shoulders sagged, his momentary elation from her potential answer deflating.

"But I can't… I… What happened, happened. I'm still working it all out. We both made mistakes that day. So, so many mistakes… And maybe it was just easier to be angry with you. I don't know. I don't know why I was so angry with you…"

"Was angry?"

"I'm not at the point of forgiveness. I'm working to get there, and I hope one day I do, but that day isn't today. Today, the only thing I can say is that I'm not angry with you. The anger has passed. Now I'm just… I'm sad, Derek. I'm sad about that day and what it cost so many people."

"Me too. I think about the cost all the time," he told her.

"I do too. But I'm trying to… move forward. It's a slow process. For now… I'm not angry."

"I'm happy you're not angry."

"So am I."

"And I hope that some day not angry turns into happy and happy will allow you to forgive me," and yourself, he silently added, knowing that has half of her battle.

"I hope."

"For now, I'll take this."

"Good," Emily said with a smile, the raw emotion clouding over them. She needed that to go away. "Now, can we end this weird interlude and get back to Emily's saddest town tour?"

"Absolutely," he said, happy to feel like they were making small strides and feeling as if he had his friend back, even if for just the evening.


	15. Chapter 15

. It took three days for them to close the case. It turned out to be a father and son team. The father, a career criminal, was released early due to prison over crowding. To celebrate his release, they decided to go on an extended road trip even though they barely had two pennies to rub together between them. So they robbed homes along the way to fund and things escalated. Their break in the case came about when the father and son decided to hit a house where the homeowners had hidden cameras throughout the residence because they thought the housekeeper was stealing from them. The cameras caught clear shots of the men's faces and all Penelope had to do was to run the snapshots through her facial recognition program. The downside was that another couple had to die first.

For those three days, Emily felt like she had never left the team. She fell effortlessly into their routine, joining in on the banter and tossing out ideas as they brainstormed. She got to know Tara better and the jealousy she felt toward the African American woman faded and they formed a genuine friendship. Tara was a good fit for the team and she would like working with her again. And during that time Emily even forgot she was estranged from Derek, quickly falling into old habits with him.

Then reality slapped her in the face when the team suited up in their Kevlar vests and left her behind with Penelope. The last three days were nothing but an illusion, a pipe dream. With her injury she would always be left behind, not at the police station or wherever the team has set up, but back in the BAU at her desk, buried under consults. She would never be fit enough to be a field agent again, not even in some limited way. Feeling like she no longer belonged, Emily waited to hear that the arrest was successful and everyone was safe before slipping quietly away.

* * *

Reid stood in the doorway of the tavern letting his eyes adjust to the dimness after being out in the bright late afternoon sun. Once he could see, he liked what he saw. Over the years he as been in a lot of bars and the majority of them were dumps, but not this one. This bar was well maintained: the floor was clean, the tables and chairs matched the booths and there wasn't a hint of smoke marring the hair or the ceiling and walls. Reid especially liked the two mode trains chugging their way around the perimeter on tracks mounted near the ceiling. One even had little puffs of vapor coming out of its smokestack. The trains reminded him of Gideon. Like Emily, he was another person who walked out of his life when the going got rough.

And speaking of Emily, he scanned the sparsely populated room expecting her to be seated at the bar or in one of the booths. What he didn't expect was to see her behind the bar serving beers to three elderly men clustered at the far end. Emily was tending bar? Why didn't anyone tell me she was working as a bartender? Nobody tells me anything, he thought foully, but then realized the odds were that nobody knew. In her occasional letters and phone calls, Emily only talked about where she was and what she saw, nothing about how she was actually feeling or any jobs she picked up along the way.

Reid settled at the other end of the long mahogany bar with its polished brass foot rail and waited for Emily to notice him. If she was surprised by his presence, she didn't let it show.

She limped over to him, placing a bowl of peanuts in front of him. "What's your poison, handsome?" she asked with a smile.

"Just a club soda for me," he responded.

Emily nodded and filled a glass for him. "Did a brightly garnished little birdie tell you where I was?"

Reid chuckled at her tongue in cheek description of Penelope. "Yeah, she did one of her things."

"I kind of figured that. I am surprised she lasted this long."

"Me too. Derek had to stop her several times from putting permanent tracker on your phone." He dropped his eyes to his drink, slowly turning it in its place.

Emily studied him as she began to dry the glasses lined up on towel on top of the bar. "What's on your mind, Spence?"

Reid sat back on the barstool, resting his hands on his thighs. "Emily, why did you leave the police station before we got back?"

Emily didn't want him to know she left because no matter how much she pretended that everything was back to normal these past three days, she could never be the agent she once was so she lied.

"The case was over and I had to get back to work. Steve was nice enough to give me the time off, but he couldn't do it indefinitely."

"He could if you quit."

"And why would I do that?" she asked, setting down the glass she had just picked up to dry.

"To come home," he put out there.

"Who says I want that?"

"You never said you didn't," Reid countered. "Do you?"

Emily shrugged. "I hope so…someday."

"But not today…" he said to himself. "We miss you…I miss you."

"I miss you too, Spence."

"Then come home."

She sighs while thinking he's a persistent little bugger. "I'm not sure if I want to. I don't know that there's anything in DC for me anymore."

"There's us. Your family. Your whole life."

"I know that you're all there, but no matter where I am, you're still my family. My life there isn't my life anymore and I don't think that what is there is enough."

"What's enough? Is this enough?" He gestured at the bar. "Working in a bar, alone, without anyone around who cares for you like we do?"

"Maybe it is."

"I don't think you mean that." But he wasn't going to argue. Instead he said, "You hurt me, you know. By leaving…"

"I know I did, she sighed again. "I didn't want to hurt you, but I had to do what was best for me at the time. It wasn't about you or the team. It was about me making a decision with my well-being in mind."

"It took a little time, but I do understand that now. It doesn't mean I don't want you back home with us though."

"I know, Spence," she said, putting her hand atop his. "And, for you, I wish I was willing to be back there."

"But you're not…"

"No. I'm not."

"But maybe some day soon?"

"Maybe."

"I hope you do. I hope you realize that, on the team or not, wherever you end up, with us, that's home. We want you there, and hopefully you'll want to be back there too."

"Thanks, Spence."

"In the meantime, I'm happy that you're trying to take care of yourself. I'm…I want you back, but I want you to be happy."

"I'm working on it."

"I know. Just don't be a stranger, okay? At least think about visiting?" he asked.

"I'll consider it."

"Had to try. I guess I better get going." He went to get up.

"Or you can stay," she said. "We can talk a bit. Catch up. You can tell me what's going on in your life. Have another drink on me."

"Yeah. Okay," he agreed, happy for the invitation.

They didn't talk about Emily coming home again, but they did spend some time just talking while Emily worked. It wasn't what Reid hoped for, but it was perfect for now.

* * *

While she may have left things with Reid on a good note, Emily knew the team was leaving and it didn't feel right letting them take off without a proper goodbye. It was only fair. Reid happened to let their departure time slip, and Emily thought that would be the best moment to go see them. It would make for a quick goodbye that couldn't escalate into too big of a send off, and allowed her a touch of control on the situation. It was just what she wanted. So, the next morning she and Geordie headed off to see them, hoping to catch them just as they were loading up the cars.

They arrived at the hotel's parking area and surveyed the lot for her friends. As luck would have it, several of her old teammates were exiting the hotel just as she was moving that way.

"Hi," she called out to Dave and Hotch. "You guys going somewhere?"

"Just heading home," Hotch replied. "What are you doing here?"

"Couldn't let you guys leave without even a quick goodbye, could I?"

"Definitely not," Dave agreed, going in for a hug.

She didn't object and welcomed the embrace.

"I'm glad you came," Dave whispered in her ear. Geordie let out a loud pitiful whine and Dave bend down to give him a pet.

Hotch threw his bag into the trunk and said, "Let me call the team down. They should be on their way, but no harm in speeding them along."

"That would be good."

Hotch made the call as Emily and Dave had a little chat. He was subtly trying to get another read on her and gage whether she would be heading back to DC any time soon. It didn't seem like she was ready, so he was going to soak up every extra second with her that was offered.

When the rest of their group joined them, they were very happy and surprised to see Emily there. Another round of hugs ensued along with many urging Emily to stay in contact and call more often or maybe come back east for a visit. Again Emily promised to do her best, but couldn't guarantee anything. Fear of Emily breaking off all contact if pushed to hard, they avoided asking when she was coming home permanently and why she had abruptly left the police station.

Hotch let a few minutes pass before he stressed that it was time to leave. Reluctantly everyone gathered up their bags and piled into the two SUVs. This time it was Emily's turn to watch them drive away. She missed them the moment they were out of sight.

She looked down at Geordie who looked as sad as she felt. It hadn't taken him long to warm up to her friends, especially Penelope who snuck him treats whenever Emily's back was turned.

"Ready to go, G-Man?" she asked him. He responded by grabbing the leash in his mouth and tugging on it.

After leaving the hotel, Emily and Geordie aimlessly wandered around the city thinking or trying to think. Something had changed and now all her thoughts were tied up in a jumbled mess. Eventually she found her way to the tavern, stopping briefly at her motel room. When she limped in, Steve was seated at the bar working on the books.

"Hey, Em," he said in greeting and glanced at his watch. "You're early."

Emily stopped at the far end of the bar. "I know."

The tone of her voice captured his attention. He put the pencil down and looked up. One glimpse of her face told him everything he needed to know. He had known that one day it would happen but he wasn't expecting it to be this soon, leaving him feeling unprepared. "You're leaving, aren't you?" he asked sadly.

"Yeah," she said, looking down and running her hand along the polished surface of the bar. She would miss this place and its people. "It's time for me to move on."

He nodded once. Emily was like a lost soul, doomed to wander the earth until she could find a place to call home. He got up, walked around the end of the bar and over to the cash register. She tried to decline the last paycheck, but he told her she earned it and slowly counted out the bills. "Do you know where you are heading?"

She shrugged. "Wherever the wind takes me."

Steve sat the money down in front of her. "Drop me a line when you get there?"

Emily shoved the money in a pocket without counting it. "Sure," she said, but they both knew that she wouldn't.

Steve cleared his throat and thrust out his hand, unsure if she would return the gesture since she didn't like to be touched. "It's been a pleasure working with you."

She surprised him by grasping his hand in a firm grip. "Same here. Will you say goodbye to The Romeos for me?"

"I will," he agreed, letting go of her hand reluctantly.

Emily looked around the bar one last time. "Well," she said, breaking the silence. "It's best I get going." She patted her leg and Geordie jumped to his feet. "I've got things to do and places to go. Bye, Steve." She gave him a little wave then headed for the exit, Geordie at her side.

When she reached the door, he called out, "Emily?"

She stopped and turned around, a questioning look on her face. "Yes?"

"I hope you find what you are looking for."

She gave him a small smile. "So do I," she said softly and then she was gone.

* * *

Emily and Geordie were admiring the sand dunes at the Great Sand Dunes National Preserve in Colorado when her phone rang. She was surprised she got a signal and when she looked at the screen it said unknown caller. Figuring it was one of those robo calls that were a thorn in everyone's sides, she chose to ignore it and let it rollover to voicemail. She forgot all about it until that night back at the hotel when she was checking her messages.

 _"_ This message is for a Miss Emily Prentiss. My name is Hiram Lowenstein and I am an attorney at law. There is a legal matter I wish to discuss with you and if you could contact me at this number at your earliest convenience. Thank you."

"Why the hell is a lawyer calling me?" she demanded of Geordie who thumped his tail twice before returning to licking the tasty treat out of a bone.

Emily listened to the message again hoping it would spark some recognition, but nothing came to mind. All she knew for certain was that the area code sounded familiar, but not enough to know exactly where. She briefly considered contacting Hotch to see if this Lowenstein was some defense lawyer for one of the UnSubs she had helped put away, but decided it would be a waste of time. If the scenario was true, the lawyer would have contacted Hotch first and he would, in turn, contact her. A glance at her watch told her that the office was probably closed for the night so the call would have to wait until tomorrow morning or, as the lawyer put it, at her earliest convenience.

After breakfast and taking Geordie for his morning constitutional, Emily sat at the desk in her small hotel room and dialed the number the lawyer had rattled off. The phone rang four times before it was answered by a slightly out of breath secretary. Emily identified herself asked to speak to Mr. Lowenstein. She was placed on hold for five minutes until a rich baritone came over the line.

"Thank you, Miss Prentiss, for calling back so promptly."

"You're welcome, but I am a bit curious about this legal matter you said you wanted to discuss with me."

"Of course." There was the sound of papers being shuffled. "I regret that I must inform you that Charles Caron has passed away."

Emily frowned into the phone. Who the heck was Charles Caron? "I'm sorry, Mr. Lowenstein, but I'm not familiar with that name."

"Charles was the owner of Caron's Books here in Camden, Wisconsin."

It all came back to Emily in a rush. Camden was that small town she had been stranded in for a month while waiting for her car to be repaired after striking a deer. Charles was that gruff old man from France who owned, well did own, the used bookstore she frequented often to pass the time.

"I'm sorry to hear that he has died, but what does that have to do with me."

"Mr. Caron has named you his heir and executor of his estate."

"He what?" she exclaimed in shock, her voice rising several octaves and prompting Geordie to look at her with worried eyes. "Why would he do that?" she asked, dumbfounded. "I barely knew the man."

Emily could hear his shrug over the phone. _"_ You must have struck some cord with him and he knew you would take good care of his estate."

"What about his family? Shouldn't one of them be handling this?"

"He doesn't have any. His only child, a son, was killed in Vietnam and his wife passed away ten years ago. All he had left was the bookstore they had started together."

"And now it is all mine," she said glumly.

"Lock, stock and barrel," Lowenstein agreed with a chuckle. "Now the will has to go through probate so there are forms I'm going to need your signature on. Would you like me to send them to your current address when they're ready or would you like to stop by my office to sign them?"

As much as Emily wanted to conduct the entire matter over the phone and through the mail, she knew she couldn't. She needed to read the original will and discuss what options she had available to her. She couldn't make any rash decisions on something this important. Charles was depending on her to do right by him and dispose of his estate properly.

Emily let out a sigh of surrender as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "I would prefer to do it in person, Mr. Lowenstein. Right now I'm in Colorado so it's going to take a day or two to drive back."

"That's not a problem, Miss Prentiss. Just call me when you get back into town."

"I will."

"It will be a pleasure to meet you. Charles spoke highly of you. Drive safely."

He did? "Likewise," Emily said and hung up.

She slowly set the cell phone down on the desk and turned to Geordie who was stretched out on the bed watching her. Emily shook her head as she said in disbelief, "Geordie, what the hell have I gotten myself into?"

* * *

Emily left Hiram Lowenstein's office in a daze. He had been correct that she owned everything lock, stock and barrel. Suddenly she went from owning nothing that weighed over sixty tons to having a rowhouse back in DC, a bookstore, the building it was in, a house and Sid the cat, the only one under six tons. There were also some modest investments. She scratched her head. What was she going to do with it all? She didn't need the money because she had her trust funds to keep her comfortable. Maybe once the estate was out of probate, she would liquidate it and donate the proceeds to charity in Charles' name.

She and Geordie wandered over to the bookstore and let themselves in with the key the lawyer gave her. This was all hers. She stood there staring at the disorganized shelves at a loss of where to begin. The easiest thing to do would be to sell the whole kit and caboodle to first person that wants it and be done with it once and for all. But she knew her books and suspected that hidden in this mess were some first editions that could be worth quite a bit of money. The hard part was that she would have to go through the collection book by book to find them. Well, it would be six months before the estate clears probate so she'll have plenty of time to unearth them, not that she could actually stay that long. Wanderlust tended to hit her after a month or two in one place.

Since it appeared she was going to be in town for several months, she was going to have to find somewhere cheap to live. Staying at the bed and breakfast she had stayed at before would get very expensive very quickly. Emily's eyes went to the ceiling. Lowenstein had mentioned that there was a fully furnished apartment upstairs that was currently vacant, the previous renters have moved out six weeks ago.

Going back out to the sidewalk, Emily found the door and went upstairs. The moment she stepped into the apartment, she knew it would work just fine. It was clean, well maintained and surprisingly spacious. It had two bedrooms in back, a full bathroom and kitchen and a living room.

"This will do nicely," she said with a satisfied nod. "You can even have your own bedroom, G-Man. No more bunking with me."

Geordie wagged his tail and disappeared into one of the bedrooms like he was claiming it for himself. Figuring he would be safe up here for a while, she left him to his own devices and went to get their bags from the car. So focused on her task Emily didn't see the man walking past the door and ran right into him as she exited.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized profusely as two hands on her arms steadied her. "I wasn't look…"

"Emily?"

Emily stopped in mid-sentence, eyes growing wide in surprise. "Greg?"


	16. Chapter 16

With Greg off at a conference, Emily decided to take the boys up to the lake for some swimming. She had overhead Cole and Evan secretly plotting and, to avoid hours of them hounding her incessantly about it she decided to beat them to the punch. So she had packed a lunch, dry clothes, saddled up Renegade and the ponies and with Geordie ranging before them, they headed for the lake.

On the ride up Emily kept telling herself she was going for the boys, giving them a chance to have some fun away from the house. But the trip was for her too. She had something potentially life changing to think about. Where better to do that than in nature while the brothers tried to drown each other.

"I need to think about it. Who says that? When a great guy asks you to marry him, you give a solid answer," Emily spoke to herself skipping stones as she watched the boys and Geordie play in the water. Well the boys were playing; Geordie refused to go in any deeper than his stomach.

She had been there a year, a whole year. It was the longest she had spent in one place. And in that time, she had grown to love this place, the boys…and Greg. She loved him, she loved him more than any man she had ever known…and then he went and proposed. And now she didn't know what to do.

Emily sighed, tossed the last stone in the lake and went to sit on the log that served as a bench on the shoreline. How did we get here? She asked herself before thinking back to the first moment their relationship really became something more. He had asked her out and she stopped being just a good friend.

 _When Emily went to inspect Charles Caron's house, she discovered it was stuffed to the gills with more books. It was probably his private collection, though you couldn't tell that from the way they were stacked everywhere. She decided to take all the books back to store for sorting. She wanted to get the house empty as fast as she could so that she could put it up for sale once it cleared probate. The proceeds from the sale she was going to donate to the local library. Greg offered to help when he could and even brought over a horse trailer to haul the boxes in._

 _Greg finished taping close his box and looked across the room at Emily who was focused on squeezing as many books in the box as possible. She was so beautiful with her near black hair up in a messy ponytail and dust streaking her face and tee shirt. Emily straightened with a soft groan and pushed back a stray lock of hair with the back of her hand._

" _Emily, go out with me," he blurted._

 _She froze, hand against her forehead and blinked in surprise. Slowly she lowered it as an amused smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Did you just ask me to go out on a date when I'm all dirty and sweaty?_

 _His cheeks reddened. "Yeah, I guess I did," smiling sheepishly. "You don't have to say yes. It doesn't have to be a big deal. We could go to dinner…0r the movies. Anything you really want—"_

" _Yes."_

"— _There's a nice little café in town. We can do coffee. No pressure with that. It could just be as friends. Really, whatever you want—"_

" _Yes," she repeated louder in an attempt to cut him off. Adorable as it was, he looked to be a few seconds away from talking himself out of it._

"— _I don't want to…wait…did you just say yes?" he asked, hoping his desire to get closer to her wasn't making him hear things._

" _Twice," Emily said with a chuckle. "Were you this bad when you asked out your wife?"_

" _Worse," he admitted. "Gretchen ended up asking me. When it comes to important things I tend to get tongue tied or ramble on."_

" _So I noticed. When would you like to go on this date?"_

" _What about tonight? I know it is kind of short notice." He had to get it out before he lost his nerve._

" _That's okay. Tonight is fine," Emily agreed, smiling that smile that always put him at ease. "It's not like I had anything exciting planned for this evening. Just cuddling up with Geordie and a book."_

" _Great," Greg grinned, ecstatic that she had accepted. He had been so worried that she would shoot him down. If she had, he would have slunk away with his tail between his legs and returned to admiring her from afar. He made a mental note to get the boys a babysitter. "What would you like to do?"_

 _Emily shook her head. "You're the one who asked so you get to pick. Surprise me."_

" _Okay," he said and slowly nodded as he thought over his choices. Then a secretive look came to his face. "I've got it. Dress casually."_

" _No problem there. What little I own is casual," she joked._

" _I'll pick you up promptly at eight."_

" _I'll be ready."_

* * *

 _Emily was starting to have second thoughts as she waited on the sidewalk outside the bookstore for Greg. Did she really want to jeopardize the close friendship she had with him? If this date went south, she would be forced to leave and she loved this place. And given her track record of bad dates, it was a strong possibility. She was about to go back inside and call it off when Greg' truck pulled up._

" _All set?" he asked with a grin through the open passenger door window._

 _She hesitated on the top step while she made up her mind. "Yeah, I am," she decided and climbed into the pickup._

 _Most of the drive was spent in an awkward silence, both suddenly not knowing what to say or do. Greg kept his eyes glued on the road while he unconsciously drummed his fingers on the top of the steering wheel. Meanwhile Emily gazed out the side window worrying a thumbnail and jiggled her right leg. Neither realized they were acting like two nervous teenagers out on their very first date._

" _Where are we—"_

" _I thought we—"_

 _Greg and Emily broke off at the same time and flashed a self-conscious smile at each other before looking away._

" _I'm sorry. Go on."_

" _Please continue."_

 _They chuckled when they did again. But the humor had its desired effect. The nervous tension filling the cab of the pickup truck dissipated._

" _Ladies first," he said._

 _Emily nodded. "So where are we going?"_

" _I thought we could take in the double feature at the drive-in," he suggested._

 _Her eyebrows went up. "A drive-in?" she asked in surprise. "I didn't think any were left."_

" _There are quite a few still around. I've been coming here since I was a kid when you had to hang the speaker on the car window. What about you?"_

 _Greg doubted Emily would actually answer him. In the months he had known her, she rarely talked about her life before waking up in his guest room._

" _Never been to one," she surprised him by answering. "My family wasn't the movie going type."_

 _He heard the wistful tone in her voice and decided not to ask why not. Instead he smiled and said, "Then you're in for a treat. It's retro-Tuesday. They're showing Superman I and II."_

" _Cool. I never saw it in the theaters."_

" _Then you'll love it on the big screen at night. It's a big difference."_

" _I bet."_

 _From there the conversation flowed easier between the two, almost back to the level it had been before he had asked her out. At the drive-in Greg parked in his favorite space and hurried off to the concession stand for snacks._

" _Want anything else besides popcorn and soda?"_

" _No. Those will be fine."_

" _Well so far so good. I haven't said anything really geeky to send him running and screaming for the hills," Emily thought wryly as she waited for Greg to return. She watched in curiosity as other cars pulled in. Some patrons remained in their vehicles while others unpacked folding chairs and radios, obviously planning to watch the movies under the stars. As she checked out the large screen Emily wondered if he would try to pull the classic stunt of pretending to stretch so that he could drape his arm across her shoulders. She had always thought it was a cute, but rather pathetic way for a guy to get closer to a girl._

 _Greg returned just as the previews started with two large buckets of popcorn and drinks, figuring it was too early in their dating to be sharing food. He tuned the radio to the proper channel and they settled in to watch the movies. Once during Superman II Greg did stretch, making Emily think he was actually going to attempt it, but he was only cracking his back._

 _In the end Greg had been right; she had enjoyed herself immensely. With the darkness surrounding the screen there had been times that Christopher Reeve looked like he was about to fly off into the night sky. On the drive home they talked about their favorite parts and Emily even let a little of her nerdy side show by rattling off some movie trivia. One of her favorites was when Clark Kent turned into Superman he always took time to comb his hair to the other side._

 _Greg walked her to her front door and stood nervously on the sidewalk. "I had a great time tonight."_

" _So did I," she said with a shy smile "Thank you for asking me."_

" _Can we do it again?"_

" _I would like that."_

" _Great!" He debated if he should kiss her goodnight, but decided to wait after they had gone out on a couple of dates. He didn't want to seem too forward. "See you tomorrow," he said, slowly backing up. "Goodnight, Emily."_

" _Night, Greg."_

* * *

 _Tuesdays quickly became their night out. Sometimes they had dinner first or they went directly to the movies. Greg was always the perfect gentleman. He would pick Emily up, escort her back to her door when they returned then politely bid her a goodnight. But at the end of the fourth date he did something different. Instead of leaving he stepped forward, cupped her face gently in his hands and kissed her tenderly on the lips. Emily was too surprised to move._

" _Too soon?" he asked worriedly when they broke apart._

 _Emily slowly opened her eyes, blinking away the remnants of the fireworks she had just seen in her head. "Not at all," she said in a husky voice and returned the kiss._

 _Now it was his turn to see fireworks. When the kiss ended, he leaned his forehead against hers, breathing in her scent. "Did you see?"_

" _Uh huh," she said with a giggle. Emily never saw herself as a giggler, and yet, here she was doing it._

" _Was yours as spectacular as mine?"_

" _More so." Another giggle._

 _He breathed deeply. "I think I better go before we set the whole place on fire."_

" _Me too."_

 _Neither moved, choosing to share another kiss. The spell encompassing them was broken when Geordie started barking up a storm to let them know he was upstairs being neglected. They broke apart with self-conscious smiles._

" _Uh…night, Greg."_

" _Night, Emily," he said and beat a hasty retreat, intending on taking a very cold shower._

 _Emily watched him go, fingers tracing her lips as she remembered the touch of his on hers. He was a damn good kisser. She sensed he wanted to go further, but she wasn't ready for that and hoped he would understand. She let herself into the apartment and glared down at her dog._

" _Your timing is as impeccable as always," she scolded._

 _Geordie wagged his tail in agreement. Emily was his human and he didn't want to share her with anyone._

* * *

As the next few months passed, Greg and Emily grew closer, pretty much spending most of their free time when he wasn't away together. They had debated about telling the boys they were dating, but they couldn't figure out the right way to bring it up. Then one day they were caught in a compromising position in the tack room.

" _Daddy!" Evan exclaimed in shock. "Why are you biting Miss Emily?"_

 _Greg and Emily broke apart, each blushing at getting caught by a four year old. "Uh…" they stammered._

" _Cole! Daddy bit Miss Emily!" he yelled over his shoulder._

 _Cole appeared in the doorway. "Why is he doing that?" he asked in confusion._

" _I dunno."_

" _Guys," Greg said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I wasn't biting Emily. I was kissing her."_

" _Kissing her? On the lips?"_

" _Yes."_

 _The brothers looked at each other and then scrunched up their face in utter disgust. "Eeewww!" they said in unison. "Why?"_

 _Behind their father Emily covered her mouth with one hand to hide her smile and keep the laughter inside. She was so enjoying Greg' discomfort. By then Geordie had joined the impromptu party and sat between the two groups, his head swiveling back and forth as he listened in._

" _Why?" he repeated. The boys nodded. "Well…that is how a person shows another person that they like them."_

" _We like Miss Emily so does that mean we have to kiss her on the lips too?" Cole asked innocently._

 _This time she couldn't hold it in and let out a bark of laughter. "He's got you there."_

 _Greg turned to stare at her. "You're…not…helping," he said in a singsong voice._

" _Sorry." She wasn't._

" _No it doesn't, Cole. It's what grownups do."_

" _Ooohhh!"_

 _Evan piped up. "If you keep kissin' Miss Emily like that, will that make her stay longer?" He and his brother were very fond of her._

" _It definitely may," Emily admitted with a flirtatious wink, making Greg' ears redden._

" _Cool." The boys stood there staring at their father and Emily expectedly._

" _What?" Greg demanded after a long minute of silence had passed._

" _Go ahead and kiss her," Cole said._

" _And why don't you guys go play fetch with Geordie?"_

" _We done that," Evan protested._

" _Go do it again," their father suggested, steering his sons to the open door, "and remember to knock before you enter a room."_

 _Cole frowned. "We never had to do that before."_

" _You do now. Have fun," he said, shoving them out and closing the door behind them. He turned to find Emily biting her lip, chuckling softly. "What now?"_

" _You forgot something very important," she said and pointed to Geordie who was still sitting there._

 _He looked down at the dog. "Oh. Right." He reopened the door and waved at hand at the opening. "Out!" he ordered._

 _Geordie glanced up at Emily who softly repeated the command. He sighed dramatically and shot Greg an 'I'm not happy' look before exiting._

 _Greg closed the door a second time and leaned against it. "And what were we doing, Miss Prentiss, before we were interrupted?"_

" _I do believe, Mr. Novacek, you were trying to convince me to stay longer," Emily said coyly._

 _He grinned. "Then I better get cracking."_

 _He stepped up to Emily, pulled her close and gave her a passionate kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she returned it._

* * *

One night, when the boys were sleeping over at their grandparent's house, Emily invited Greg to sleep over at her place. He readily accepted. But instead of their first night was spend content with just enjoying each other's company. Dressed in their pajamas they cuddled under the blankets and listened to each other's breathing and heartbeats until they both fell asleep.

From there, their love making slowly evolved. They took their time exploring each other's bodies. Greg gently running his fingers over Emily's scars especially the large one on her lower abdomen and the one on her left thigh that looked suspiciously like gunshot wound. He was curious to ask how she got them, but sensed she wouldn't welcome it. From their time together, he knew Emily was intensely private and rarely talked about her past. Emily, on the other hand, was relieved that Greg refrained from asking. They brought up painful memories that she didn't want to revisit.

Eventually they sat the boys down and talked about Emily spending more time with them, even staying at night. Cole and Evan were fine with that and naturally assumed Emily would be staying in the spare room since that was where guests slept when they were visiting. She moved back in, alternating between rooms at night. They kept the door locked to give them privacy and keep the boys from walking in on anything their young eyes didn't need to see.

From there the months seemed to fly by especially for Greg. Though he never asked Emily about her past, he was still curious about it. But he trusted her and loved her enough to respect that she didn't want to talk and he didn't need to know. He was sure she had her reasons and, if or when the time came that she wanted to tell him anything, he would happily listen. In the meantime, he was falling deeper in love with the woman he knew. What once was didn't matter. Each day they spent together, he became more certain of his love. Finally he came to a point where he wanted something a little more permanent. He wanted her to settle down with him, to call this life hers.

"It's beautiful here," Emily said in awe, gazing out over the crystal clear waters of the lake. "It is like time has stopped and everything is the same as it was thousands of years ago."

 _With the boys spending the day at their grandparents, Greg and Emily took advantage of the unexpected free time to go for one of their long and leisure rides. After convincing Emily to leave Geordie at home, he took her to a special spot he had discovered a couple of years ago. There, they had eaten lunch and, using the saddle as a backrest, they reclined on the plaid blanket taking in the spectacular view. Greg had his arm draped around her shoulders allowing Emily to nestle and rest her head on his broad chest._

" _It is," he agreed, idly playing with the ends of her hair. "It's one of my favorite places."_

" _Did you and your late wife come up here often?"_

" _No. I found this place a few months after Gretchen had passed."_

" _May I ask how she died?"_

" _Ovarian cancer when Evan was two. It hit her hard and fast," he said softly._

" _I'm so sorry, Greg," Emily said sincerely, reaching up to intertwine their fingers and giving a comforting squeeze._

" _Thank you. She was a wonderful woman and mother."_

" _I'm sure she was."_

 _By mutual agreement the two fell quiet, content in each other's arms and enjoying the beauty surrounding them. The sunlight glistened off the surface of the water. In the trees the birds sang and the squirrels chattered away. At the shore a fox emerged from its hiding place to get a drink. It was a perfect idyllic day that spoke of good times ahead._

 _Greg turned his gaze to her and knew in his heart it was the right moment. Everything was so peaceful and perfect. He rested his head against hers and asked, "Emily, will you marry me?"_

 _She sat up and turned to him in confusion. "Marry you?" she repeated, unsure that she had heard him correctly. Had he just asked for her hand in marriage?_

 _He took her hands in his. "Yes. Marry me, Emily. Make a life with me."_

 _Her mouth opened and closed. "I…uh…where is this coming from?"_

" _I love you, Emily. You've become an important part of my life and my boys' life. I want us to spend the rest of our lives together."_

 _Emily pulled her hands free and stood up. She gazed out over the water as she hugged herself. There were so many thoughts were running amok in her head. Was it too soon? Did he really want to marry her or was he just looking for a mother for his children? And what about the boys? Would they accept her in that role? Was she even worthy of his love and devotion? Most of the time she didn't think she was. She was incredibly messed up. Did he really want someone as damaged as she was? But most of all was she even ready for such a commitment?_

" _I…Greg…I…" When did she become a stammering fool?_

 _Greg followed her and rested his hands on her shoulders, feeling the tension in them. He was hoping she would say yes immediately, for her to be as thrilled and excited by the prospect as he was._

" _You?" he asked uncertainly._

 _She turned and saw the hope in his eyes. "I…" Oh god, how she wanted to say yes. Part of her thought it felt so right, but another part warned her not to jump in blindly. "I…I know this isn't the answer you want, but…but I need time to think."_

 _He blinked. No, it wasn't the answer he had wanted. "Oh…no problem. I can do that. Take all the time you need."_

 _Even though he hid his disappointment, she could still see it there. "Thank you," she said softly and he wordlessly nodded._

 _The romantic atmosphere had been shattered. They stood there in the awkward silence looking everywhere but at each other. Greg broke the heavy tension by suggesting that they should probably head back and Emily readily agreed. It was a very quiet ride and that night they slept in their own rooms._

* * *

That was how the rest of their days and nights went until Greg had left on this latest trip. They were together and affectionate during the daylight hours and alone in the darkness of the night.

Geordie, having grown tired of being splashed at, waded out of the water and came to rest at her side. Sensing his human needed some comfort laid his head in her lap and gazed up with hazel eyes filled with unconditional love.

"He wants to marry me, Buddy," she said as she scratched him behind the ears, using the dog as an emotional sounding board. "But would he still want me if he knew the truth about me? I've kept so many secrets and I don't know if I'm capable of sharing them. That's what I have to figure out before I can decide to accept his proposal or not."

Emily sighed and continued to stroke his fur as she turned her gaze back to the boys. When their splashing target had abandoned the game, they retreated to the small section of shoreline that actually had some sand to build two castles that they later could besiege.

There were only two options available to her. She could keep her past in the past and continue to live her life as Emily Prentiss, mystery woman. Or she could tell Greg everything and risk losing the man she was madly in love with. But she could still lose him by withholding the truth. A marriage built on a foundation of lies was bound to collapse. It was inevitable and would cause more harm down the line to all those involved. Greg was a sweet and wonderful man. She couldn't do that to him.

Emily's back straightened with resolve as she felt the weight that had been lying heavily on her shoulders lift. "Geordie, I know what I have to do. I need to tell Greg all the sordid details of my past. That way he'll know the truth and be able to decide if he still wants me to be his wife."

The die had been cast. All Emily could do was to wait and see where it fell.


	17. Chapter 17

Emily was dozing on the front porch when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She slowly opened her eyes to find Greg standing over her.

"Hey. You're back," she observed with a lazy smile.

"I am," he agreed as he bent down to give her a quick peck on the lips.

She wrinkled her nose. "You smell gross."

"I know," he chuckled. "I'm going to check on the boys and then take a shower."

"You'll find them right where I left them. Tied to their beds."

"Good to know I don't have to worry about them falling out of bed in the middle of the night," he teased. "Save me a seat for when I get back?"

"Sure," she said. "But don't take too long. Otherwise I'll have to give it to Geordie."

He glanced down at the dog sprawled out on the porch snoring up a storm. "I won't," he said and hurried inside.

By the time Greg returned smelling of soap and shampoo, Emily was sitting up on the swing with a fresh bottle of beer. She silently handed him one as he sat down next to her. "How was the conference?"

"Good. Nothing like a hotel full of veterinarians proudly showing off videos and photos of their pets. I might have flashed pictures of Geordie and Sid around."

The much slimmer Sid was sitting on the porch railing giving himself a bath. Emily had immediately put him on a strict diet much to the cat's dismay. He was used to his dish filled to the rim with kibble so the first day Emily fed him, he stared in belief at measly portion that barely covered the bottom of the bowl. He stomped off in a huff, thinking his protest would make her feel guilty and give him more. It didn't work so every meal he complained loudly that he was starving to death as he ate.

"Aren't you supposed to be talking shop and attending seminars on the latest advancements in veterinary medicine?"

"Supposed to, but what's the fun in that?" He took a long draw of beer. "And how were the boys? Not too much trouble, I hope?"

"They were fine. The other day I took them up to the lake for a day of swimming," she replied with a fond smile.

"Your idea?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No but I made it seem like it was. Those two need to stop talking so loudly when they are plotting something. They would be able to get away with more."

He chuckled. "Shooting themselves in the foot before they even get started."

"Yeah."

Greg draped his free arm over the back of the swing and was surprised when she didn't cuddle up next to him like she normally did. Emily remained where she was, staring out into the darkness. He could tell something was bothering her and he had a pretty good idea what it was.

"Em, what's troubling you?" he gently asked. "Is it the proposal?"

Emily sighed and twisted the bottle in her hands. It was now or never. "Greg, there is something I have to tell you about me that might have you reconsidering your decision."

He frowned. "Nothing will change my mind. I love you, Emily Prentiss, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"This might." She took a deep breath and stepped off the ledge, her future in fate's hand. "I know I don't talk much about my past, not much at all."

He nodded.

"I just... Sometimes it's painful. I grew up all over. I did things... It's complicated."

"Everyone's life seems complicated. Let's uncomplicate it."

"Okay," she said. "Let me say everything before you respond."

He nodded.

"I've lived a privileged life," Emily began. "My mother... She's... She's an ambassador. I grew up around the globe. Paris, Rome, the Middle East. I think that's why I was so good at my job."

"Keep going. I'm listening," Greg encouraged when she paused.

"I moved to DC about a decade ago. I started working at the FBI. Actually, I was in the BAU, the behavior analysis unit. I hunted serial killers. And, on my last case, I got hurt. That was how my leg was injured. Things went wrong. They went very, very wrong."

"Is that what the nightmares are about?"

"Most of the time."

"You don't have to talk about the case," he said, very understanding. "I know you're not ready."

Emily looked at him with her eyes narrowed. He was understanding, which wasn't new, but he didn't have any reaction at all.

"You don't look surprised by any of this. Why don't you look surprised?"

Greg smiled. "Em, I may not be the most technologically advanced, but I know how to run a search engine. I knew you were from DC from the license plate on your car. I know your name. How many Emily Prentiss' do you think are out there?"

Staring in disbelief, she said, "You knew… This whole time, you knew. If you knew, why didn't you say anything?"

"If you wanted to talk about things, you would. I knew you'd come to me in your own time."

She was happy he let her do it on her own terms, but also a little sad he didn't force the issue earlier. Then they might have had more time to talk about it.

"There's more. There's another reason why I can't say yes right now."

"What else is there?"

"I went to the doctor... for my leg," she said.

He sat up straighter on the swing. "Oh God. Did they find something else? Are you sick?"

"No! No. I'm fine," she said quickly to calm his fear. "It was... it was good news actually," she said. "I... there may be a way to help my leg."

* * *

 _Emily's leg was hurting. She thought it was just phantom pain. Actually, she convinced herself of that because she hadn't felt anything in that area of her thigh since she was shot, and the sudden change was making her crazy. Now, it was painful 24/7. She didn't know which sensation was worse: knowing that there was a piece of her body that was there, but had no feeling and was so disconnected from the rest of her, or having that same part of her body drive her nuts with pain, even though that pain was likely only in her head. The second seemed worse, like she was going bonkers. Her sanity, she felt, was one of the few things she needed to hold on to. If that was going, what was left?_

 _Whatever the cause, she needed a doctor to do something about it. She had just learned to live with the numbness. She didn't know if she could learn to live with the constant pain instead. There couldn't be a back and forth. Her body just needed to figure out what it wanted and stick to it._

 _Rubbing at her thigh, Emily scoured the Internet for a doctor in the area. She thought, maybe, she just needed a little more physical therapy, the muscles surrounding the damage tight and in need of a little work. So, she found a reputable place nearby and called to make an appointment._

 _The next day, she made her way to the doctor's office, which happened to be right by the hospital, and waited for her name to be called by the receptionist._

 _"Emily, you can go ahead in," she was told._

 _Almost nervously, Emily followed one of the nurses back to the private exam room. Emily spoke with the doctor briefly on the phone, explaining the problem and she said that she wanted to see Emily and the injury before deciding whether physical therapy was the right choice. There could be a secondary problem or something new and needed to inspect the site before determining possible treatment._

 _Emily sat on the examination table and waited. A knock sounded on the open door. Emily smiled in greeting._

" _I'm Dr. Langdon," she said. "Good to meet you."_

" _Emily. Good to meet you too."_

 _Dr. Langdon got right to business. She asked Emily about the original injury and her treatment for it. Emily explained all she could, but the doctor still needed a better look at Emily's leg. Emily obliged and answered questions about where exactly the pain was and what it felt like._

 _"What's that face mean?" Emily asked when she saw Dr. Langdon's expression._

 _"Nothing. For now, I think I'm going to prescribe a low dose muscle relaxant. Follow the directions exactly and don't take it unless actually needed," she advised._

" _Okay. I know the drill."_

" _I think starting on your physical therapy again could prove useful. Give it a day or two to see if the pain lessens. Take the medicine, rest the leg, and try using alternating ice and heat where the pain emanates."_

 _Emily took the instructions and planned to set up a few physical therapy sessions on her way out. The doctor asked if Emily was okay with her requesting the original hospital records for the injury. She had no problem with it, but still asked why._

" _To get a better understanding of the situation from a medical standpoint."_

" _Alright. Yeah."_

* * *

 _Emily went through several PT sessions. She wasn't sure it did anything to actually help, but between that and the medicine, the pain was mostly gone. She still claimed it was in her head, but she was happy nonetheless. She also still swore that she could feel something in the area where she knew the nerves were damaged._

 _One day, just as she was about to head out after her latest physical therapy appointment, she saw Dr. Langdon waving at her, calling her name._

 _"I'm glad I caught you," the doctor said._

" _Is everything alright?"_

" _Yes. I was just hoping to see you. Would you mind coming into the office with me? There's something I wanted to discuss."_

 _A little concerned and confused, Emily agreed, following Dr. Langdon toward the other end of the practice and into her office. A private chat, Emily thought, not sure if that sat well with her._

 _"What's going on?" Emily asked._

" _Don't worry. Nothing is wrong. I just wanted to present you with some information I found," Langdon started. "I received copies of your medical record a few days ago and looked extensively at the exact nature of the injury and your treatment."_

" _Okay."_

" _And I showed it to a colleague of mine at the hospital. She's running a clinical trial that I thought you might be a fit for."_

" _A clinical trial?"_

 _Dr. Langdon explained that the trial was looking into muscle and nerve regeneration. They were in their second trial now and had some success in the past. She said that the trial is a synthetic nerve and muscle being placed, laparoscopically into the old injury, and medication._

 _Emily had lost a lot of muscle mass because of the injury and then during the recovery, so that was part of why she was experiencing what she was. It was possible that, while at the time it seemed to be more clear-cut, that her body was compensating for the loss and still healing. The clinical trial, should she have chosen to do it, would entail a special cocktail of drugs being injected into the injury site twice over six weeks and very specific physical therapy instructions. If she was in the treatment group, that was what would happen._

" _I know it's a lot of information, and if you want to talk about it with the doctors running the trial, they're happy to set up the interview with you which would include a lot of questionnaires and an exam. But, I do hope you'll consider this. It's not a guarantee, but it won't make anything worse."_

 _Emily asked a few questions and Dr. Langdon gave her a few more specifics, but it was still a lot to think about. She left there with a lot of questions only she could answer and even more to think about.  
_

* * *

"Are you going to do it?"

Emily shrugged. "I don't know. I could end up in the placebo group and nothing would change. My leg would still hurt."

"Or you could receive the treatment. Your leg could improve to the point you won't need that cane." Greg nodded at the walking aid propped against the porch rail.

She followed his line of sight. "I guess."

"I say what the heck and go for it," he cajoled. "It won't hurt…well the injections probably will…but if it doesn't take, you won't be any worse off than before."

"That's true," she conceded.

"Does this mean you're going to say yes?"

"It's not that simple," Emily stated.

"Why not?"

"I guess, I may not have anything to lose medically…"

"But? Not medically?"

"The doctor in charge of the trial doesn't work out of the hospital here. She grew up here and comes back to help out and recruit patients for the trial from the next town over at the veteran's center. Finding me was just a fluke."

"So… what does that mean?"

"It means that the trial isn't in town. It's in… It's in Virginia."

"Oh," he said, taking it in.

"That's it? 'Oh?'"

He didn't really know what else to say. He had a few questions.

"How long is this trial?"

"Around six weeks of treatment. Not really sure after that. There's potential for longer if it works. They said something about needing to follow progress if I'm picked for the drug and not the placebo, especially if it works. But even if it doesn't, they need to make sure there are no side effects for me."

"So, at least two months, maybe more?" he asked.

"Yes."

He sighed. He didn't want her to leave, but he couldn't ask her not to.

"I… I still think you should do it."

"What?"

She was expecting more talking before he came to that conclusion, and she knew he would get there. He was that kind of guy.

"This treatment could be big for you. It could help you get all that you lost back. I know it's important."

"You're not going to miss me?"

"Of course I am. I'm going to miss you like crazy, but I don't want to be selfish. I can't ask you not to do it. That's not fair. This is something you need, and I support you, whatever that means."

"But…"

"No buts," he said. "Tell me you're going to do it. I know you want to."

"I don't know."

"No. Tell me you're going to do it."

"Yes, I'll do it. Like you and Dr. Langdon said, I've got nothing to lose and everything to gain. I'm just sad that it's taking me from you."

Greg pulled her in for a hug.

"I'm happy for you. This could be great."

"Or it could be a waste of time."

"Never. Not with you involved."

She squeezed him back.

"I don't know what it means for us."

"Well, I guess it means we're breaking up."

"What?" Emily asked.

"Kidding. But you should see your face."

Emily made a face and slapped him on the chest. "Jerk," she grumbled good naturally.

"You love it," he chuckled as he rubbed his chest.

"I love you," she responded.

He took a deep breath and broke the lightness the conversation took to ask something that had been on his mind.

"Emily, why didn't you just tell me the truth from the start? It would have made things easier for you."

He was right about that. By the time she got to the end of her confession, she was mentally exhausted, embarrassed and surprisingly relieved. Emily dropped her eyes to her lap and started to pick at the label of the beer bottle.

"Because I didn't expect to still be here. In my travels the longest I have stayed in one place was three months. I was only going to stick around until probate ended so I could sign the papers and turn the sale of the estate over to my lawyer." She paused in her label peeling long enough to run her hand through her hair. "That's why I tried to keep you at arms length. I didn't want you or the boys to become too attached to me and vice versa. But it didn't work. I fell in love you and you with me. Then you proposed…" she trailed off.

And I messed you up, he thought ruefully. It hurt a little that she hadn't trusted him enough to confide in him. But he really shouldn't be surprised. Emily had always struck him as a woman who found it difficult to trust in others. And technically she hadn't been lying about her past since she never brought it up. It was more a sin of omission than a flat out lie and in the end none of it mattered.

Greg reached over to still her hand. "I proposed because I love you."

Emily's eyes came up to meet his. "But you didn't really know me, not the whole me."

"Don't I? You may have neglected to tell me your whole history, but that's not what I fell in love with. I love the woman, not the story behind her."

Her eyebrows knitted together in a frown. "What are you saying?"

He squeezed her hand tenderly. "I'm head over heels in love with you because you love horses as much as I do. You adore my sons and aren't threatened by the fact they are another woman's children. You have a nerdy side. Your laughter is music to my ears and it goes so well with your snarky sense of humor. And you have the most gorgeous set of dark brown eyes. That's the real you. That's who I'm in love with. If I knew everything about you, nothing would change. We can continue to learn things about each other every day, and I would be fine with that."

Emily stared at him at a loss for words. He didn't care one bit about her past. He just loved her for who she was at this moment. Greg was a wonderful man and he deserved an answer to his proposal but—

Greg seemed to be able to read her mind. "After all this I know you're not ready to give me a definitive answer yet and that is okay with me. Take all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere."

"You sure?" Emily asked worriedly. "I know this is very important to you and you deserve an answer, but I don't know how this ends. I don't know what happens next."

"Neither do I, Emily. I want you to make the choice that is right for you. I don't want you to feel like I forced you into something you're not ready for." He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close. "I just want you to be happy, Emily. That's all," he said, kissing her hair. "And with the distance, I think you'll have time to figure it out. But I'm going to miss you like crazy."

"I'm going to miss you too."

Emily leaned in again, this time she initiated the hug.

"Thank you," Emily whispered, resting her head on his broad chest. "I don't know what I did to deserve a man as good as you."

"Same here. Guess we're two peas in a pod," he teased.

"Maybe we are," she agreed and snuggled closer.

The two then fell silent gazing off into the darkness, content to be in each other's arms.

* * *

Greg rolled over reaching for Emily but his hand encountered only rumpled sheets and the mattress. Sleepily he sat up and gazed around the moonlit room. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, a shape standing huddled at the window came into focus. Emily was staring sightlessly out into the night lost in her thoughts.

This wasn't uncommon for her. Once they had started sharing a bed, he had discovered Emily's sleep was plagued by bad dreams or bouts of insomnia. He often awoke to find her in the throes of a nightmare, standing at the window or haunting the downstairs. Either way he would simply hold her offering silent comfort until she had relaxed enough to fall back asleep. He never pushed her to talk about them even when she called out names he was unfamiliar with because he knew she wouldn't. All she would admit was that it was a bad dream. Even though he now knew about her past it still hadn't changed.

He padded barefooted across the floor, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. "Bad dream?" he whispered in her ear.

Emily sank into his embrace. "No," she whispered back.

"Insomnia?"

She shook her head as she continued to gaze outside, caressing his arms with her hands.

Greg thought about it. If it wasn't a nightmare or insomnia keeping her up then what was it? Then it hit him like a ton of bricks and his stomach sank.

"Emily…"

She bit her lip and stilled.

"You've finally made a decision."

She nodded.

"You're saying no, aren't you?"

"Ye…yes," she murmured.

"I don't understand. We talked about everything. I know who you are, you know who I am, and I thought you loved it here with me and the boys?"

"I do. I haven't been this happy in a long time."

"Then why?" he asked, unable to keep the pain of rejection out of his voice.

Emily turned and he could see the tears trickling down her cheeks. She never cried. He reached up and tenderly wiped them away. "Because I have to," she choked out.

Greg frowned in confusion. "Em, I don't understand. You have to? Why would you have to?"

"I love you and you make me happy, but I can't ask you to put your life on hold for me."

He went to say something, but she laid a finger over his lips to silence him. "You have to let me get this all out, okay? Just let me say it."

"Okay," he reluctantly agreed and gently kissed the finger.

Emily smiled at the loving gesture and dropped her hand over his heart. Through his tee shirt she could feel its rapid beat.

"I have—" she stopped and started over. "As much as this is my new home, I have an old home that I ran away from and people I left behind. People I loved. They are…they were my family and I left them. It's been a couple of years and, though I felt I wouldn't, a part of me still believed I would go back. There are things I need to make right before I can really settle down and be happy."

"I can do that with you; help you," he said, covering her hand with his. Their fingers intertwined.

"It's not something you can do for me or with me. It's just something I need to take care of and do before I can commit to you. I love you, Greg, and I love your sons. But it wouldn't be fair for me to make promises to you and them when I made promises to other people that I broke. I need to make peace with what happened before anything else."

Greg rested his forehead against hers.

"My treatment is in Virginia. DC and Quantico are right there. I need to deal with that and my life there before I can come back."

"But when you finish what you have to do, you'll still come back to us?"

"This is where my heart is," she said.

"And where my heart will be waiting for yours."

"But it still stands, Greg. I don't know how long this is going to take. I don't know how the first weeks of treatment will be, and I don't know what's going to happen after that either. But it may take a while. There's no time frame."

"I can wait."

"I want you to live your life," she said. "Not keep it on hold for me."

"Can't I do both?"

"No… It's not fair. What if it takes years? What if I find that I love working the FBI desk or I can get back in the field which I thrive on? There are a lot of things to consider here."

"Just like I can't ask you not to go, you can't ask me not to hope that you'll come back to me sooner rather than later. But I know you need to do what you need to do."

"I need to see how this will play out. I need to see if I still fit in my old life and what that means for me… and for us."

"Just promise we'll keep in touch."

"Absolutely. You're not getting rid of me."

"And that we'll still give us a chance. Even if it's long distance."

"You have my word."

"I will propose to you again one day, Emily Prentiss."

"I hope so."

"Then you go and do what you need to do. The boys and I will be here waiting your return," he said, kissing her lightly on the lips.

"Thank you for being so understanding. A lot of men wouldn't be." She returned the kiss.

"I'm no ordinary man," he agreed with a cocky grin.

She chuckled as she swiped at a stray tear. "No, you're not."

The brief flash of levity did nothing to dispel the seriousness of the conversation. "When are you planning to leave?"

"This morning after breakfast. I need to explain to the boys why I'm going to be away for a while. I think that would be best."

"Me too." Greg sighed at the thought of losing her. "So what do we do now?"

Emily gazed into his sad blue eyes. "Can we go back to bed and you can hold me until I fall asleep?"

"Of course."

Hand in hand the lovers made their way back to the bed. Emily climbed in first and curled up on her side. Greg slid in behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist and held her snugly to his chest. They didn't speak, choosing to savor the closeness of their bodies until sleep overcame them.


	18. Chapter 18

The team was worried and it's been that way for a long time. Emily had kept the promises she had made in Jefferson City, staying in contact with them more often through letters and phone calls. Then about four months later there was nothing but radio silence. It was like she had dropped off the face of the earth. At one point, Penelope was on the verge of hacking into Emily's credit cards and cell phone to get her location so she could convince the local police to do a welfare check. Derek stopped her, gently reminding the technical analyst that they had to respect Emily's right to privacy even though he was just as worried.

Dave was just as concerned as the rest, but he knew Emily and figured she had a good reason to drop out of sight. Perhaps she has found what she was looking for and wanted to get things squared away before contacting the team. But that didn't mean he was going to sit around on his hands doing nothing. He had one little trick up his sleeve. He was going to call Emily's therapist to see if she had been in recent contact with the brunette.

Allison was sympathetic to their plight, but she wouldn't violate doctor/patient confidentiality. All she could say was that she has talked with Emily and that she was fine. She did promise to pass on their concerns if she spoke to Emily again. Dave was okay with that, knowing that she was in contact with someone they trusted. When he passed the news on to the team, their fears were slightly mollified, but they wouldn't be truly satisfied until they heard from their friend, whenever that may be.

A couple weeks later they were wrapping up the morning case review when the door opened and Emily breezed in, bakers box in hand.

"I've got donuts," she announced brightly.

Six heads swiveled in her direction, shock and surprise clearly written on their faces. Penelope even took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes, thinking she was seeing things. Was their long absent friend actually standing before then in flesh and blood? She was.

"They're chocolate glazed with sprinkles. Come and get them before Reid eats them all.

Everyone responded at the same time, rising from their seats and rushing towards her, not to get at the donuts, but to give her welcoming hugs. At the same time they peppered her with questions. Why didn't you let us know you were coming? Is this just a visit? How long will you be here? Does this mean you'll be staying for good? Where the hell have you been for the last year and did you forget how to use your phone? I was about to send the National Guard after you. The last one was from Penelope.

Emily held up a hand to stem the flow of questions hurtling at her from every direction. "If you can give me a moment to breathe, I'll answer your questions as best I can."

The team reluctantly resumed their seats, but not before helping themselves to a donut. Reid stacked four donuts on a napkin before taking his.

She took a moment to organize the questions in her head. There were some she intended to answer fully and others she needed to be more circumspect about She wasn't ready to tell them about Greg and the boys yet, afraid if she did it might jinx the whole thing. Her future with Greg could hinge on the outcome of the clinical trial.

"First off, I didn't call because I wanted to surprise you and judging from your reactions, I hit the ball out of the ballpark." Chuckles echoed around the table. "Second, I don't know if I'm going to stay here permanently. I guess it all depends on the outcome of the clinical trial I'm going to be participating in."

The team's happiness at her unexpected return quickly changed to concern. "Clinical trial?" Hotch asked with a worried frown. "Are you ill?"

"No," Emily responded quickly. "It's for my leg. It has been hurting so I went to a doctor who recommended me for the trial. I filled out the questionnaire, went for an interview and was accepted."

From there Emily went on to explain what the clinical trial entailed and where it was being conducted. "So I'll be here for at least two months or maybe a little longer depending on how things go," she concluded.

Penelope clapped her hands in delight. "That means plenty of girls night out or in depending on how you're feeling. You back at home?"

"Yes," Emily confirmed with a smile. "It would be rather silly of me to stay at a hotel when I have a perfectly good rowhouse that's been sitting empty."

Reid was nodding thoughtfully. "The University of Virginia Hospital is renowned for their clinical trials. Would you like me to more research on it for you?"

"No need to, Brainiac. They explained it in detail when I was accepted," she said, knowing full well that he would reject her suggestion and research it to death just to make sure the doctors are doing everything correctly.

"Okay," he agreed, already making a mental list of all his questions and the best sources to get his answers. He wanted to be prepared to help Emily in case she needed it.

"Are you going to need any help? You know, like rides to and from your appointments?" Derek asked hopefully, looking for a way to have some one on one time so that they could continue to repair their friendship. There had been some thaw on Emily's part back in Jefferson City and he was hoping for more now that she was back in DC…as temporary as it might be. What better way to make some inroads than car rides to PT.

Emily politely rebuffed him. "No. They said there wouldn't be any restrictions like no driving. I'm just to continue with my normal activities."

"Oh…okay." Derek's face fell in disappointment.

"But you will call us if you help?" Dave pressed.

"Absolutely. You all were there for me before even though I didn't appreciate it much then."

"You had a lot on your plate."

"I did and I still do to some extent," Emily admitted. "I know I probably should have said this sooner, but thanks for all your support, even when some of you didn't think me leaving was the right thing to do."

"That's what friend's do," JJ said, "and I'm glad we were wrong. The time away has obviously done you a world of good."

"It has."

"Good." Penelope put her hands on her hips and glared at Emily. "Now tell us where the hell you've been hiding for the past year?"

Emily laughed. "Wisconsin. Camden, Wisconsin to be exact." She proceeded to fill them in on her surprise inheritance while omitting any reference to Greg and the boys. She wasn't ready to share them yet with the yet. That would come later when she was feeling less selfish.

* * *

The following week the clinical trial started. A special cocktail of drugs was supposedly injected into the injury site and she was given and shown very specific physical therapy instructions. Emily followed them to the letter. As the weeks passed, she began to worry that she was in the placebo group and her separation from Greg had been for nothing. She should have stayed in Wisconsin, accepted his proposal and remodel the bookstore like she had been thinking, starting her second career as a bookseller. Then one day she noticed a discomfort in the injury site that eventually changed into pain. It was excruciating pain, but more like the annoying pain that had driven her to see the doctor in the first place.

Her leg was getting better. Feeling was returning to the damaged area and it was showing in the PT sessions. She was now doing things she couldn't even attempt to do at the beginning of the trial. She still had a limp in her gait, but it was less noticeable and she was able to permanently ditch the cane. The improvement she was seeing turned her thoughts to the possibility of being able to return to the field and the job she had been forced to give up. She might not be able to run like she used to, but it should be enough for her to pass the physical to get back in the field in a restricted way. Emily made a mental note to do just that after the clinical trial was over.

At the same time, she resumed her therapy sessions with Allison. There were some issues that needed to be worked out face to face and she wanted to thank the woman for letting her call whenever she was struggling regardless of the time. Emily even let Allison see the journal she had been keeping since starting her journey. Allison was thrilled Emily had followed her suggestion and used the therapy tool. They spent several sessions discussing it. Now she needed the therapist more than ever. Emily has come to another crossroad in her life and she needed the impartial advice to help her figure out what road to take.

* * *

"It's good to see you, Emily," Allison greeted as they sat down for a session. Geordie, who was welcomed in the office, curled up at Emily's feet.

"You too."

"How's the clinical trial going?" Allison asked. "I noticed that you're walking better. Is that a good sign?"

"It's a great sign," Emily said, offering her a genuine smile. "I've been doing things in physical therapy that I haven't been able to do in a long time."

"That's wonderful."

"It is. It feels like I'm becoming my old self again."

"Your leg and your ability to use it as normal didn't make you, you."

Emily shrugged. "Maybe not, but it still feels like it."

"That's good then. What else is going on?"

"My leg and fitness level has improved enough that I believe I can pass a physical to get back into limited field duty with the FBI."

"Really?" Allison smiled at the news. "That's amazing, Emily. Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"Why aren't you more excited about it?"

"I am excited about it. It's great. It's a start toward what I wanted."

"But?"

Emily studied her thumbnail, but didn't start picking at it. It had taken her a long time to break the bad habit. "But… what if I get there and it's not what I want or I feel like it's not right anymore."

"That's something you won't know until you're there, and it is something that you decided was important for you to try. Did that change?"

"No," Emily responded.

"Ok, then this is good progress toward your goal. Besides, we talked about what ifs. You can't just focus on what ifs."

"I know."

"Tell me what has you so conflicted," Allison pressed.

Emily stood up and started to pace. Geordie wisely stayed where he was, eyes watching her every move, ready to go to her when he felt she needed him.

"I'm just not sure if it's truly what I want anymore. I want to find out if I can do it and I need to know if it's still for me, but I had a good thing going where I was. I left Greg and the boys behind to come here and do this, with their support, but what if that was the mistake."

"That's another what if."

"Yes, but it's just a question."

"Here's a counter question. Greg supports your decision to do this, right?"

"Yes."

"And either way, isn't the possibility to regain function a good chance to take?"

"Yes."

"Then I understand that you're conflicted, but there's no reason you can't have both."

"How?"

Allson leaned forward in her chair. "Emily, you're a smart woman who has lived in many places. You of all people know how this works. Moving is always an option for either of you. That's something to consider down the line and something that only the two of you can work out together. Right now, you're doing something important for you and your recovery. Revel in the progress you've made."

"I have made good progress," she agreed.

"And that is what you should continue to focus on. The rest will work itself out."

Emily sat back down, perching on the edge of the cushion, hand automatically reaching down to stroke Geordie's head. "I still miss spending time with him."

"Why not visit?"

"I need to be here the entire time of the trial."

"Why not ask him to visit then?"

"I don't want to take him away from his practice and the kids."

"You know, Emily. It's okay to be selfish sometimes, and it can't hurt to ask."

Another shrug. "I guess so."

"In the meantime, I really am so happy for you. Not only have you made great strides in your mental health, but you took a chance and your physical health is doing better too."

"Thanks."

"Emily, there really is no reason that you can't try to have both. Ultimately, though, you have to think about what you want most. What would make you happiest? Once you do that, go for it."

Emily knew that Allison was right. But she couldn't make a choice. She didn't want to. She missed Greg. She missed the boys. She missed being a part of the team. If she had to choose, which could she live without? She wasn't sure there was a clear answer. It felt a lot like she couldn't be without either family.

She wanted to try being a part of the team again. She also wanted to live a happy life with Greg.

* * *

"Is this seat taken?"

Emily looked up in surprise to find Hotch standing there. "No, it isn't," she said, scooting over to make room on the bench for him. Then she returned to watching Geordie holding his own in play with two other dogs that were triple his size.

As the Unit Chief sat down, he took time to study her more closely. Whatever happened to her in the past year must have been good for her. She was happier than he had last seen her in Jefferson City. And when she had briefly glanced up at him, the dark eyes that were dull and lifeless when she left, now burned with determination and humor. It was good to see her closer to her old self. She wasn't quite there, but she was getting closer.

"Didn't your mother teach you that it isn't polite to stare?"

Hotch started and when he turned to her, Emily was looking at him with a big smile on her lips. He let out a soft chuckle. "Yes, she did. By the way I had a hard time trying to track you down. It seems like your phone is either dead or turned off."

Emily dug into her pocket, letting out a mild oath as she checked the status of her cell phone. "It's dead. I guess I forgot to charge it last night. Sorry about that, Hotch."

"Not a problem. I just used good old fashion detective work to find you…and that Penelope said you liked taking Geordie to the dog park." He leaned in closer. "I recommend that you ignore the twenty-two voice mails from an increasingly frantic technical analyst."

"So noted."

"I'm sure you're wondering why I was looking for you in every dog park in the district."

Emily made a dismissive wave with one hand. "I just figured you wanted to get Jack a dog so you were checking out the different dog breeds," she said with a straight face.

"Not even close," he said, smiling at her snark. "I thought I would drop by to let you know that I received notification that you have been cleared to return to active duty."

Her eyes widened. "I passed the physical?"

Inside she was still conflicted. She was excited that she officially has an opportunity to return to a job she loved, but was worried that it wouldn't be the right fit any more. And if was the right fit, what did it mean for her relationship with Greg?

"You did, but it will be for limited field duty. You'll be able to do everything you did before except for takedowns since your mobility is still slightly limited."

"I expected that."

Hotch gazed out the dog park, gathering his thoughts. "I know you want to jump right back into the thick of things, but I was thinking that we could ease you back into work by having you come in part time flying a desk for a week to knock off the rust. Say twelve to five?"

"Okay."

"Then back to full time and traveling with the team. Does that work for you?"

He had been right that she wanted to hit the ground running like she had never left, but she could see where he was coming from. He was just being cautious, as he should. "That will be fine, Hotch. I'll do whatever you want. I just have to know if I can still do this job."

"I can understand that." His face grew serious. "Emily, I do have to ask you this and I need you to answer truthfully. Will you be able to work with Morgan?"

Emily bit her lip and stared at her hands as she carefully considered his question. She took a deep breath and slowly released it. "Our friendship may not be what it used to be, but I believe I can work with him on a professional level. We can still be co-workers. But I do have on request."

"What is it?"

She locked eyes with him. "That when I do go out into the field, I would like to be partnered with someone else if possible."

He wasn't surprised by her request. He actually been expecting it. "I'll see what I can do," he promised with a nod.

"Thank you," she said sincerely.

Hotch glanced at his watch. "I hate to cut this short, but I have to pick up Jack from school. He has a doctor's appointment at three."

"No problem. Say hi to him for me."

"I will," he said and stood up. He gazed down at her. "It will be good to have you back. You've been missed. See you Monday."

Emily smiled. "I'll be there promptly at noon. Oh, could you make sure Garcia doesn't throw a big welcome back party?"

He chuckled, knowing she hated all the unwanted attention. "I'll do my best. Are her cupcakes suitable?"

"Perfect."

"See you then," Hotch said with a small smile and then headed for his car.

Emily watched his progress until Geordie interrupted her by hopping onto her lap and planting a big wet kiss on her nose.

"Yuck," she declared, wiping the slobber from her face before scratching behind his ears, one of his favorite spots. "I'll have you know that Greg is one hell of kisser and a lot less sloppier than you."

Geordie just wriggled around on her lap until he was draped over her legs with his tummy exposed.

She chuckled and sighed as she commenced with the belly rub. "And speaking of Greg, I need to call him. We need to talk…big time."

* * *

Emily didn't get her wish. When Hotch put the kibosh on the big welcome back party, Penelope simply interpreted it to mean that it couldn't be held at the office. Instead she disguised it as a girl's night out with JJ and Tara. It was at a restaurant Emily unfamiliar with so she didn't bat an eye when the hostess led her to a private room at the back. The team shouting welcome back scared the crap out her, her right hand automatically going to her hip. Luckily for them, she was unarmed and couldn't mow them down in a hail of bullets before she realized what she was doing. Everyone gave her a second to recover before plying her with hugs and presents.

"What happened to the no big welcome back party?" she whispered to Hotch between the appetizers and entrees.

"I got overruled?" he countered, gulping down some of his beer.

"Want to try that again, buster?"

"I had no idea Garcia was planning this. I only found out at the very last minute and by then there was nothing I could do to stop it except to go along with it."

Emily studied him over the rim of her wine glass. Hotch had a great poker face…but then he always wore that face. "I'm not buying it," she decided.

"It's my story and I'm sticking to it."

She chuckled and let it go, knowing when Penelope got party on the brain, there was no stopping her…short of tying her to a chair and locking her in the nearest broom closet.

As the night progressed JJ managed to get some alone time with Emily even if it was in the ladies room…a very nice ladies room with its own sitting area. She was pregnant and had planned on telling everyone when Emily returned to work, but Reid blew the plan right out of the water. He had spotted her eating saltine crackers after a case, put two and two together and announced, in his high pitch excited voice, to the bullpen and the entire world that she was pregnant with her second child.

"Hey, Em, I want to show you something," JJ said when they had the bathroom to themselves.

"Is it another picture of Henry doing something adorable?"

"Not quite, but similar." She handed over the ultrasound.

It took Emily a moment to realize what she was looking at. Her face broke into a huge grin and pulled her best friend into a hug. "Congratulations, JJ!"

"Thank you."

Emily went back to looking at the picture. "Do you know if it's sex yet? I can never tell with these things."

"Well, for one," JJ reached over and flipped the ultrasound, "you have it upside down. And two, it's too early to tell."

"Do you want another boy or a girl this time?" she asked with a sheepish smile.

"We don't care what it is along as it is healthy, but we do know that we want you to be the little one's godmother."

Emily's eyes teared up. "I would be so honored and I promise not to go all Garcia on you. I'll stick to books…lots and lots of books."

JJ laughed. "You can never have enough books."

"Exactly!"

"But there is one thing you're in trouble for," JJ waved a finger at her.

Emily stared at the wagging finger in bewilderment. She couldn't think of one thing she had done wrong since she came home especially in regards to JJ. "What did I do?"

"You introduced my son to your dog and now he has informed me that he would rather have a dog like Geordie than a baby brother or sister."

Emily blinked and then grinned. "Geordie is one of kind. I think they broke the mold after he was born, but if you like I can find him a puppy. That way he can have the best of both worlds."

JJ crossed her arms and shook her head. "No way. I don't need two little ones with no bowel control."

"But you only have to toss one outside and it won't be the baby."

* * *

"Hey," Derek said, tentatively approaching Emily.

"Hi," she responded, turning to face him.

There was no outward anger in her voice and that gave him the push to keep talking. He missed talking with her and he just wanted to have a conversation.

"Sorry about all this," he said, referring to the party. "I tried to convince her not to, but you know how she is. When Garcia finds something that should be a party, she finds a way to bring the party."

"I know…it was sweet of her, even if it wasn't what I wanted."

Stuttering like a nervous pre-teen, Derek asked, "How ugh… How's the leg doing?"

At the mention of her leg, her hand drifted down to rub it. "It's good. Not exactly where I was, but fighting fit."

"That's awesome, Em. Congrats. And welcome back to the team."

"Thanks," she said, feeling his sincerity.

Voice dropping, eyes somewhat downcast, Derek spoke. "I… I heard you asked Hotch to be partnered with someone else."

"I did," she confirmed.

"I thought…"

"You thought, what? I'd come back and everything would be as it once was?"

"Well, no… Nothing will ever be as it was. We were all impacted by that day. But I thought I'd be getting my partner back… I guess that was too much to hope for."

She sighed. "Don't take it too personally Derek. Haven't you ever wanted to partner up with someone else once in a while?"

"Sure. But I have been for the two years, and, I got to tell you, I've missed having you at my side."

Emily smiled. "And I missed being there…"

Derek mentally sighed. There was always a 'but'. "But?"

"But… Derek, there was a time when I couldn't imagine myself partnering up with anyone but you. I knew you had my six and I had yours."

"I still have your back."

"Maybe."

"Definitely."

"Okay… but I don't know if I feel that. And if that automatic trust isn't there and we're out in the field, then we're both put at risk. That's not fair to either of us. Partners need to be able to know they're on the same page, that their instantaneous choices would be the same, and that whatever situation may arise, they could get through it together."

Derek replied, "We have that."

"We used to have that," Emily corrected.

"We can again."

"Yes. Maybe. But we don't have it now, and I'm coming back to the team now, not then."

"So, that's just it? We're barely friends and now we're not even partners? That's it for us?"

"Derek," she started. "We're working together, and we may even be paired up from time to time, and, when that happens, I'll be professional. We'll work together. And we'll keep working together, step by step until we trust each other and can back any choice made. We're not there yet, but I'm not saying we can't be there again one day. That day just isn't today."

"This feels like a break up," Derek said, earning a laugh from Emily.

"It can be an amicable one. I meant it when I said I wanted to work on things. So, let's do that. Trust that this is what is best for me, for us, and work on making things better, a little at a time. Then we can reevaluate down the road."

He nodded.

"I can live with that."

"Yeah? Good."

"I just… I was really afraid that you've completely given up on me."

"We were always a great team Derek, and, more than that, you were my family for a long time."

"You were mine too."

"While the relationship is damaged and needs repairing, the feelings and the past aren't erased. They're just buried under the rubble."

"I'm not afraid to dig," he promised.

"That's good. Your big guns might come in handy."

He flexed his muscles.

"Alright, show off," she said with a chuckle. " I spend more time in physical therapy and I barely have any definition. No need to rub it in."

He grinned. "Maybe we can hit the gym sometime."

"Yeah. We'll see."

"I still wish you were my partner."

"I know."

"But I'm really glad you're back, whether you're by my side or someone else's."

"Thanks. Me too."

Playfully, he added, "I'm going to make you change your mind about this."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Can I call you sometime? We can… talk."

"I'll call you," she said. "One step at a time, Derek."

"You've got my number."

"I do. Want to get a drink with me?"

"We can split a cupcake."

"You just want my frosting," she teased.

"I work hard to eat that buttercream."

"Yeah. Yeah. Get your own," she said as they walked to the food.

They were friendlier… one step closer to okay.

* * *

As Emily drove home, she reflected back on the party. It turned out to be a pleasant evening after she got over the initial shock. Penelope had picked the perfect restaurant. The food was delicious, the wine divine and the privacy allowed them to talk shop without grossing out any of the other customers. She even forgave Penelope when she produced her homemade cupcakes. They were a hell of a lot tastier than the restaurant's desserts…and way cheaper. The party broke up shortly after ten when Hotch and JJ announced they had to get home to their respective kids. That was with Emily because she owned Geordie a walk around the block before she climbed into bed with a good book.

Thrilled to find a parking space two doors down from her rowhouse, Emily pulled in, locked the car and made her way down the sidewalk. Her steps faltered when she saw a shape sitting on the steps of her stoop. It rose to its feet, moved down to the sidewalk and stepped into the glow of the streetlight. Emily rushed forward, wrapping her arms around its neck and giving it a warm welcoming kiss.

"Greg, it is you!"


End file.
